Heart of the Sea
by Shivaness
Summary: Ever wonder how those tales of a fierce ruler had his heart conquered by a lovely maiden? You can rule out 'Love at first sight' and 'It just happened', because this tale follows the infamous Reaver King and a woman who is the complete opposite of what he represents. Explicit content.
1. Bilgewater

Bilgewater was notorious for the criminals and sketchy inhabitants it harbored; various champions had beginnings here. The land itself had a unique beauty to it – at least the residents thought so. The city was built on the islands titled – Blue Flame Islands; just several miles from Icathia and Bandle City. The Guardian's Sea surrounds the merciless island, surrounded by docks harboring endless ships. History had been made here the moment Gangplank had taken reign of the islands once he single-handedly drew the last breath from his father; The previous Reaver King. The islands were under his rule without contest, but it didn't maintain the scurvy pests at bay. Twisted Fate and Graves were recurring residents always in the move while plotting to overthrow the Reaver King, along with the renowned Bounty Hunter, Miss Fortune.

To mention the amount of times the four have clashed and distorted the land with the exchange of firepower would take an eternity. The land had developed battle scars from these clash of the titans, and countless bodies had been sacrificed to the sea for the sake of a title; not to mention the collateral damage inflicted upon Gangplank's ship and crew during the heat of battle.

The islands itself were on par with Noxus' ideals, at least to an extent, but no royalty nor nobility existed here. Only riches obtained through blood and flesh; to be exchanged with equal or high priced items. Nobody settled for less, only for whatever piqued their interest.

Runeterra was avidly aware of the various races which populated the world, along with a realm called "The Void". Human, Yordles, and Voidlings filled the heterogeneous society. There were, of course, exceptions to the races which Runeterra had yet to identify, especially with the consistent arrival of new champions hailing from other worlds. The only tactic to unveil these alien races was simple; keep your eyes open.

Bandits, murderers, notorious gang members mostly inhabited the islands of Bilgewater, but one should consider the pockets of innocence some residents harbored, or in this case, a temporary citizen.

Rays of natural light beamed through the shroud of clouds engulfing the surrounding land, and to one particular female, it would gesture that morning had arrived. Scrunching her nose as her lids wrinkled at the ray of light intercepting through the small tear of her curtain, blinding her temporary. The female would roll onto her backside, softening her features at the lingering darkness filling her ample room. Exhaling contently, her lids would flutter open, revealing a set of emerald pools. A lock of silver tresses would roll down her forehead to veil her vision until a hand rose to tuck that strand behind her ear. Just as her figure stretched out upon turning, failing to feel the edge of the mattress, she'd collapse onto the wooden floor with a loud thud, followed by a groan.

The bed sheets had been pulled off to encase her in a thin cocoon. Emitting those groaning sounds under the covers, the silver-haired woman would poke her head and hazily examine her room; part of her daily routine. Shuffling under the soft sheets before peeling them from her figure, the woman rose to a stand to stretch out with an exaggerated yawn – how unlady-like.

Forming a path of clothes on her journey to the bathroom, the knobs to the faucet would be tampered with to achieve a desirable luke-warm temperature. Testing the water by dipping her toe into the steaming water, she smiled meekly before stepping entirely in. Washing off the dead skin cells from yesterday and last night along with the musk and other invisible which latched onto her porcelain skin complexion, the lathered loofah would scrub her body vigorously. Pouring a generous amount of shampoo, the bubbling thick liquid would be massaged into her scalp and thoroughly spread onto her tips - the process was to be repeated with the conditioner. Turning the knobs to cut off the water, two towels would drape her figure; one twisted around her cranium to absorb the water from her drenched tresses.

Today's attire would be a layered set consisting; long-sleeved beige peasant top, black pleated skirt and matching knee-high boots to top off. An apron had been packed for near-future use. Various toiletries joined the apron when stored into her messenger bag she conveniently used for storage. Breakfast would consist of bread and juice to-go. Once outside of her comfortable home, the woman resumed the consumption of her meal-to-go while subconsciously following the invisible path leading her to work.

Stagnant air seeped into her nostrils, which were already accustomed to the stench, but couldn't resist wrinkling them on occasion. Humming a pleasant tune as she sauntered down the crooked streets while avoiding polluted puddles to stain her boots, the sketchy establishment she worked for hadn't been too far off. The hidden bar tucked in a secluded alleyway completely dismissed the possible dangers it may harbor.

Clocking in for duty, the female would unpack her apron to adjust it to her figure and openly present herself to the gloomy crowd. Lips curved into a bright smile, the waitress known as Shiva would enter the scene.

"Good morning, everyone!" she called out to the unresponsive crowd.

The sun had only cracked hours ago and already men had toppled over their seats after inebriating themselves for various reasons. Exhaling softly, the waitress had been accustomed to such sights on an hourly basis, but even then she would remain considerate by turning them onto their sides to prevent them from choking on their vomit. Lives had been saved due to her kind nature, and the waitress had gained mutual respect in turn.

History on this run-down bar; waitresses were an exceptionally rare breed to come across, especially with the crowd they'd have to deal with. The consistent harassing from the patrons could've been enough to drive the female workers away, but the threats received were perhaps the breaking point. Questionable characters lurked this bar in particular, leading to a completely understaffed establishment as only one cook, a bartender, a server, and the 'manager' co-existed here. Prior to Shiva's recruitment, they'd go through waitresses like running water. Every other day they'd have to hire waiters and waitresses to fill the role of serving patrons their meals or beverages. They figured women were best suited as they'd receive less threats than the males; lower chances, even. Sexual harassment towards women consisted of random swats to the rear, suggestive language, and advances which were never fully carried out. Tougher personas tolerated the smacking of her posterior, but would often retort in an aggressive manner – in hopes they'd cease their actions, but it would merely encourage them. One faithful day, the manager would hire the silver-haired woman in hopes she'd endure longer than just a day or two.

One of the gods must have been charitable that day to bestow upon him this woman.

Not only did Shiva tolerate the sexual harassment, but minded it no attention – patrons grew bored at how she failed to reciprocate their perverse actions, and advancing into seducing the woman proved worse. Often the men would be greeted with a dumbfounded smile followed by out-of-context statements; rejections, in short. Either this woman was an expert in the art of politely rejecting advancements, held a natural repellant, or just flat-out an idiot. Either way, the woman was able to handle herself and the patrons in an effective manner. Distributing the tasteless food to the patrons, Shiva would know why they preferred to indulge in the amber hued scotch drinks or crystal clear vodka burning their throats to suppress thoughts or memories haunting them day-in and day-out. Either way, the waitress would use the ingredients and cooking utensils to create her own plates, often leaving a pleasant aroma to the patrons who never questioned its source.

Today held the potential to be permanently slow, and with few bodies already laying on their sides, lowering the number of actual active patrons. Refilling drink after drink of rum, grog, vodka, and anything on the display shelf, the waitress would finally have a moment's worth of rest to sit down and chow on her chicken soup she had made a pot of. Enjoying her meal, the woman lightly kicked her feet under the table while humming a pleasant tune to herself. The voice was delicate and inviting, almost like a lullaby to those within ear's reach, but a sudden sneeze would disturb the awkward silence which had befallen upon her.

Evening was upon them, and the crowd had grown rowdy and unstable. The poor waitress would have to maneuver through the rough crowd consistently shoving her around, proving difficult to sometimes reach a designated table to distribute their drinks. Upon leaning forward to set down the glass cups, a cool sensation caught her attention to her chest. One of the patrons at the table had taken amusement in testing his aim with flicking a single gold coin into the small slit of her top – he succeeded. Offering him an embarrassed smile, the man grinned confidently at scoring.

"Your tip, pretty lady" he uttered in a low and husky voice.

"Thank you, sir, I truly appreciate it" she beamed a bright smile at him before bowing politely and dismissing herself from their table.

Holding the large platter over her thighs to prevent it from obstructing others on her journey to the bar. The loud chants, singing, and fights occurring in the middle of the cafe would cease the moment the front door swung open. A cool breeze reached every corner of the room, blowing some of the steam from the kitchen as a tall and husky man entered. Flames from the candles flickered as the door closed behind the man; everyone returned to their seats with heads lowered. The bartender motioned for Shiva to approach him, setting down a large canteen of grog for her.

The man who silenced the room was none other than the true owner; Gangplank. Heavy boots caused the wooden floor to cry under his weight, his posture standing upright until he settled upon table which had been emptied for his convenience. Immediately the bartender sent her to deliver the drink which had yet to be requested by the man. Approaching this brute who none dared to stare at his general direction, Shiva set down the heavy canteen with a light thud before the man glared at her. A frightening shiver coursed down her spine, capable of immobilizing her as he snatched the drink for himself to take a large swig and groaned in satisfaction. He stared at the content of the canteen, almost as if inspecting it after his indulgence.

"What are you standing there for, lass? They're not paying ya to stand there and stare at me, are they?" he spoke to her.

"O-oh, my apologies, please excuse me" she bowed politely to him before moving along.

Gangplank stared at the woman through his peripheral vision, attempting to study the woman who worked at his establishment. How peculiar; this grog had a different taste to the usual, the taste had been enhanced. Least, what he thought.

"Where is my meal?" he called out, as if complaining over an order requested in silence which had been failed to be delivered.

"One moment!" Shiva would pace into the kitchen, assisting the cook with the half-cooked meal he had prepared.

Adding a selection of spices and herbs to the steak and potatoes platter, with a side of vegetables. Impatient, the captain rose from his seat to instigate why his meal hadn't arrived yet, but the waitress would appear before he could move another limb. Setting the plate down with utensils, the captain would glare down before sinking back down onto his seat.

"Next time you take this long, I'll slit your throat..." he commented.

Receiving no response to his threat, he found the waitress standing there with wide eyes staring at him.

"Such rude behavior you've inherited, lass. Would you care to join me if I'm so fascinating to you?" he chuckled dryly, humoring her antics.

"I'd love to, but I believe my service for tonight has concluded" the woman bowed politely to him "Please enjoy your food".

Dismissing her service from his table, Shiva disappeared from his line of sight.

"Marcus" he called.

"Yes, sir?" the manager responded.

"Who was that" the captain crudely forked the slab of meat to present it to his mouth as it took a large bite.

"Shiva, our waitress" Marcus would utter.

Upon thoroughly chewing his steak, an audible gulp would sound as he stared upon his hearty meal. His eyes would trail the path she had taken before leaving the establishment, another large bite would be chewed on as his lids narrowed.

"Give me the key to my room. Tomorrow, I depart" he commanded to Marcus as he received his key immediately.

His meal had been finished, leaving not a single crumb as he rose from his seat and sauntered off into the narrow corridor leading to a row of vacant rooms. The captain's resided in the far end, a fair-sized room furnished to basic commodities. Opting to not remove anything from his weary frame, the man slumped on the creaking bed as his head rested on a low pillow and ankles crossed along with his arms over his chest. Tilting his hat down to use as a shield against the dim light, the pirate would fall into slumber, but not without a smug grin dawning his features.


	2. Scurvy Pirates

Daybreak had consumed the land, the fair weather marked for a surprisingly relaxing morning. Waking to the sound of seagulls calling to each other upon finding a feast to sate their hunger, the silver-haired hostess would yawn and stretch her arms to the heavens with a content smile stretching her lips. Eagerly hopping off the bed to rush into the comfort of the bathroom and allow the water to run in the tub, the silver-haired woman felt invigorated for strange reasons, figuring today may be an exceptionally wonderful day!

Schedules routine would be followed after a soothing bath by slipping into her uniform for today's service at the bar. Bidding a temporary farewell to her home, the woman would ensue her pilgrimage down the road leading her to work. Humming a pleasant tune with her messenger bag hanging across her shoulder, upon reaching the doors of the establishment, she would chime in with a melodic tune to the new and recurring patrons inhabiting it.

"Good morning, everyone~" she cooed to the silent crowd.

Today seemed especially quiet considering that not even the manager greeted her, nor the cook. Canting her cranium inquisitively, her light footsteps would approach the main room and eyes widened upon the familiar pirate from last night; Gangplank himself.

The pirate glared viciously at the woman as if his train of thought had been interrupted due to her yapping.

"Could you be any louder, lass?" he growled at her as he took a swig of his grog "Yer yappin' is poisoning the grog...".

"Forgive me, Cap'n. It wasn't my intention!" she apologized to the scourge dismissing her without a care.

Executing her daily performance of serving, conversating and assisting the drunks by turning them onto their side, it wouldn't be long before the captain would comment on her performance.

"You should let them drown if they aren't able to keep their heads up after a few girly drinks..." he uttered upon witnessing her turn over a fairly round man with brightened cheeks.

"Would be a horrible business if our patrons died, sir. It's best to allow them to live to continue providing us with business" she would respond in a soft-spoken voice.

"Suit yerself, lass..." the man took a swig of his grog before rolling out a map and used a mug to pin it on one side as his arm held the opposite end.

For most of the morning, the pirate would study the map, mumbling to himself as he concerned himself with undisclosed routes to take. Every so often he'd request another bottle of grog to sate his bottomless pit as he studied the map. The grog would seep into his mane-like beard with each gulp, a messy eater by chance. Shiva grasped a towel and presented it to the man, only to receive a fierce stare, wondering what business she had to offer him a towel.

"What is that for..." he questioned her.

"To dry off your beard, sir" she responded.

"...what are you, my mother, lass? I'll strangle you as I did to her" he ignored her before returning to his work.

Fair warning to stop approaching the easily agitated pirate. Maintaining her distance for the remainder of her shift, the waitress would resume her work by polishing the tables after cleansing them from the spilt alcohol from messy drinkers. Mop was a secondary item, to be used when the contents of alcohol would drip onto the floor.

Most patrons were inconsiderate, as is the norm in Bilgewater as the waitress consistently transferred from a waitress to a janitor in a matter of minutes throughout her shift, yet never peeped a complaint. Shiva actually enjoyed her position as a waitress here, regardless of the patrons; some whom she'd grown attached to as recurring patrons.

Pleased with her service today, the silver-haired female would bow politely and collect her payment for the week before excusing herself from the establishment and carrying herself out. The evening was still young, and she opt to exploit it by heading into Rat Town to restock on some groceries. Browsing through the vendors to find the freshest ingredients at a fair price. Seafood and rum are Bilgewater's finest export, and finding the ideal fish was almost always easy. Tonight, Shiva shall cook fried fillet fish. Selective fruits and vegetables filled her bag, ensuring it would last for the week, or so she'd calculate an estimate.

Living solo in a small house she rented a room in, she purchased food mainly for herself, but would often buy excessively when cooking for the owner. Miria is an elderly woman whose lived alone for a large portion of her late life once her children had grown up and left their nest to settle with their significant other or find work in another city-state; often in Noxus. Shiva kept the elderly woman company most times after work, assisting her with dinner or preparing it herself to introduce a new dish to the coy woman.

Today would be one of those days to present a favorite dish to the kind owner and hope to tweak with the spices in hopes of changing its usual flavor.

In the middle of turning around to follow the path home, a disturbance in the streets had created a ruckus, distant screams echoing before the smell of gun powder stung her nostrils with a sneeze. Oh? What scandal was going on? Foolish enough to follow the sounds like a moth attracted to a flame, regret would sink into the deepest pits of her belly as the crowd began to push and shove to flee the scene unveiling before them.

Rival pirates had crossed paths in the town and were settling scores, regardless of the innocent victims whose lives they've claimed in the cross-fire. Trampled over from the mob as her posterior bounced on the pavement, her hands extended to retrieve the scattered groceries around her before rising to a stand. To her surprise, the clashing bands had reached the vicinity as the area lit up with cross-fire. Hastily carrying her bags to follow the crowd, the woman found herself at the docks with a handful of fleeing pedestrians. The heathens had flocked to the docks and boarded the ships to trade fire from one to the other.

Shiva boarded one of these ships, an eerie ship engraved with iron décor as its anchor remained submerged. No one was on guard in this ship, or they joined the to combat the belligerents daring to tarnish their deck. Finding refuge in a seemingly vacant room, the woman took a moment to examine the poorly kept room she considered a maze, even for lost souls.

In a fit of panic, Shiva locked herself in a closet to her left. The footsteps grew closer as the men exchanged insults with one another when concerning themselves a suspicion of witnessing someone board their ship. Able to see through a tiny slit in the wooden door, the men briefly examined the room before one of them alerted the other of a freshly carved path leading to the closet Shiva had hidden in. Both withdrew their cutlass blades and approached the closet with caution. Fear struck a cord within her being, fighting internally to remain perfectly composed in hopes to lure them away. As if the heavens heard her prayer, the scurvy pirates would cease all movement to lend an ear to the loud voice booming through the halls; summoning them to the deck immediately. Without a moment to spare, the pirates fled the scene as Shiva sunk onto the floor with a quiet thud. What has she gotten herself into?

The movement caused her figure to sway from side to side, figuring the anchor had been hoisted to set sail. Whose ship did it belong to? Who knows. Reclining into the peeling wallpaper behind her, she hesitated to leave the confines of the closet in fear of being slain upon sight for boarding the vessel without permission.

Gulping audibly, her emerald pools scanned the scattered belongings surrounding her. Soiled boots, tattered coats, and a putrid stench stinging her nostrils which coaxed a gag from her. Crossing an arm over her nostrils to inhale the wondrous scent of herself; white carnation would barely cancel out the stench gradually penetrating the fabric of her attire.

Left to live on the verge of dying from fear and anticipation, her knees bent to her chest while burying her face into the small pit for comfort. Hours would pass and no one would come. The consistent rocking alerted her that she was now a stowaway in an unknown ship for an innumerable set of time. Leaving her destiny to fate, Shiva would silently pray until timed hours allowed her internal clock to alert her that night had arrived, and it was time to sleep. Sleep in these conditions? It would prove difficult, but not impossible.

Debating whether to reveal herself to the crew or continue hiding in this forsaken closet, various options conjured in her thoughts, and eventually brought her into slumber.

The following morning she had woken up to footsteps pacing in the room with loud chewing noises. Standing to peer through the slit, the dim light prevented her optics from catching a clear view of the man who had his back turned to her. Closing a hue to adjust her focus, she felt something tickling her feet. Wait, what? Lowering her gaze to peer at whatever was tickling, her hues would lock onto a furry little rodent crawling over her feet in an attempt to climb her leg. Gasping sharply, the sound of a pistol clicking rung into her ear as the sound of a gunshot caused her to scream after it shot a hole through the door. Light penetrated the closet as the heavy footsteps grew louder and a large hand single-handedly tore down the door to toss it aside.

Shiva's eyes widened as her emerald pools met a pair of familiar crimson hues glaring right at her. They belonged to none other than Gangplank himself.


	3. Hearty Soup

Death flashed before her eyes as his pistol targeted the area her heart would lay under the flesh and bone.

In her subconscious, she could hear the clicking of the pistol as his index finger pulled the trigger to hear a resonating sound of a gunshot ringing loudly in her ears. Eyes widened to see smoke snaking out from the end of the barrel – freshly pulled trigger. Instinctively hesitating to shakily hold her heart, the sensation of a running warmth trickling to coat her hand it would be raised. To her surprise, the sight of crimson fluid painting her hand earned him a gasp – If only she'd be able to breathe.

Shiva's body grew heavy, unable to maintain her standing self as her knees faltered and caused her to stumble onto her posterior with a loud thud. Shivering upon the sensation of an undying cold breeze encasing her frame, her dimming emerald hues gazed up at the indifferent expression bestowed on the pirate as he bothered not to continue watching this poor display of a death. The disinterest caused the pirate to turn his back, leaving the woman choke in her own pool of blood forming beneath her.

"How the hell did you get in here, lass!" barked the captain.

Only now did the waitress snap out of the trance she delved herself into. Neither his pistol nor that cold stare pierced her soul, but his hand did reach out to grasp to grip the peasant top and force her onto her tip toes. Relief overcame her as air filled her lungs to gasp sharply and stare him dead-center in the eyes.

"Don't make me repeat myself..." he warned her as he tightened his grip.

"I-I took refuge here d-during the fight...I didn't-" cut off before given the change to justify her stow away status, the captain maintained the grip on her and literally dragged her from the closet, down the corridor and onto the main deck.

Releasing her to present her to the crew at hand like an animal, the woman would stumble and fall onto all fours before sitting up on her posterior. What a gentleman.

"Who was in charge of watching the ship while restocking!" the captain shouted for all to hear.

Out of the corner of his eye, one of the scrawny-looking men presented himself to the captain. The man was quite young; in danger of having a baby face, even.

"Captain, I-" as soon as the man's mouth opened, the resonating echo of his pistol had been fired in his general direction.

Deja vu hit the woman like a pile of bricks, hands muffling her gasp as his peers observed with an indifferent facial expression. The captain turned to address them.

"Any of you scallywags allow another stow away, and I won't be so merciful next time!" he turned to face the woman as he lifted her onto her tip toes once again. "If you don't want to be tossed into the sea, you'll have to earn your spot in my ship. You can start by disposing the mess you caused. Don't worry, it's just like mopping up spilt beer".

Whether he used her previous occupation to make light of the situation, he merely gave her a single strong pat on the shoulder and sauntered off to keep the rest of his crew in line. The man had recently fallen as he choked on his own blood, leaving him wide eyed just before drawing his last breath. Others easily walked over him, and even shoved him to the side with a hard kick to his side; ruthless and inconsiderate pirates they were!

Mustering up the courage to approach the man who lay lifelessly to the side, she held no knowledge concerning the disposal of his body. Shifting her gaze to the other uninterested crew members in hopes for advice, but none would offer. Chanting a small player for the young male whose life had been cut short due to her infiltration of the vessel, the only option would be to toss him into sea.

Struggling to lift the man onto the railing, with a quick draw of breath and a grunt, she managed to toss the man and leave the creatures of the sea to deal with his remains. This was all kinds of traumatizing for the woman, and she required time to process it all. The dream was cut short my a familiar voice booming behind her.

"Would ye like to join him? If my deck isn't mopped clean of the poor excuse of a sailor's blood, the sea may have to accept a second sacrifice – maybe then I'll have fair winds bless my ship" he uttered to her.

"...aye" she'd respond. "...where can I find the mop?".

"Does it look like I clean my own ship, lass? That's what you're here for – to clean my ship. Figure it out. Can't just hand everything to ya" without another word, he dismissed himself to bicker at the other members overlooking their conversation. "Get back to work ya worthless piece scum!".

That pool of blood had leaked to other nearby areas, and there hadn't been a single sight of a mop. Rising to a stand to saunter through the length of the vessel, in the distance, a wooden pole rested beside a dented and rusted bucket. At last! Rushing to collect the mop covered in cobwebs, the handle itself was encrusted with grime and unknown substances. Shuddering at the thought of what or who handled the piece of cleaning equipment before her, she rushed to the scene after filling the bucket with water. Cleansing the stained floor, it seemed to wash off smoothly while sweeping it off the ledge until not a single trace would be left. Exhaling in relief, the woman examined her surroundings; the deck was filthy, yet no one seemed to mind. Not to mention the crew members themselves wore tattered clothing – none held a speck of pure white.

Their smell poisoned the air enough to cause her nostrils to scrunch up in disgust. Her belly rumbled. Twilight was upon them, but the sailors worked every muscle to ensure their ship continued function without abnormalities. Shiva was growing hungry after failing to prepare dinner at home. Never did the captain specify her duties, and pondered inquiring over them before being scolded again.

Finding her way into the lower floor, presumably the kitchen/dinning area, the woman could've gagged at the violation of sanitation this room held. Rotten food, spoiled leftovers, and few articles of clothing lounging about. Was that a man passed out behind the kegs? Absolutely disgusting. Least there was stacks of potatoes, questionable meats in the meat locker, plenty of seafood to spare, and other edible ingredients. How many crew members were aboard? Surely they'd appreciate a warm meal.

Summoning up the assistance of the mop, bucket, and a scrubber, Shiva would spend the next hour purging the filth of the room to at least clear out the stove to use all four cooktops to set an enormous cooking pot to allow water to boil.

Crabs would be peeled from their shell to scoop up their meat and bits of entrails from their cranium for extra flavor, clams would be pried open and tossed in. Cloves of minced garlic, a substitute for oregano, and various other spices would be added to the pot. Pinch of salt, and lastly a whole onion would be added to the concoction of soup. Allowing it to simmer in for various hours, the silver-haired woman would mop the floors, wipe the counters, wash the dishes, and organize the shelves to make the room a replica to grandmother's kitchen.

Footsteps could be heard dragging themselves down the hall before various faces poked their heads into their presumably demolished kitchen. The only thing snapping them into reality was their fixed gaze onto the boiling pot teasing their sense of smell, leaving them to exhale in pleasure.

"What's cookin' in that there pot, lady" one dared to question.

"Cioppino. Least, something like it. Grab a bowl and get in line" instructed Shiva while holding a laddle.

Exchanging glances while questioning each other in silence, one would finally snatch a bowl from the stacked piles and approached the woman who served him a generous amount of the soup. The rest would follow, but would question the antics of the woman as to why she'd serve them warm food in the first place. Sliced bread would be offered to compliment the meal, but the men simply stood and stared at their meal with a glare, and gazed to the woman in question.

"What's up yer sleeve, wench. Ya tryin' ta poison us?" one man had set down his bowl to raise his voice at the woman.

"Not at all! Why don't you – fine, I'll taste it first, ya big baby" Shiva motioned herself to him and picked up his bowl Dipping the spoon and raise to to her lips, a quiet slurp would follow with an audible gulp.

The men stared at her, once again exchanging glances before one dared to finally dip his spoon and take a test. The others stared in anticipation, awaiting a confirmation of their meal. His eyes widened, dropping the spoon as his hands rattled the bowl before him.

"...I-it tastes just like ma's soup..." he placed the rim of the bowl to his lips and slurped down the contents, expertly flicking the meat from the clam before spitting out the shell into the bowl. "SECONDS!".

Receiving confirmation, the others eagerly dipped into the bowl as slurping could be heard echoing in the room with pleasurable grunts and moans filling the air. Smiling nervously upon the crowd, they huddled up and demanded for seconds. Happy to oblige, the men would each receive the minimal of seconds or thirds throughout the night. Now that the sailors had a belly larger than their belly of grog, the men returned to the deck with smug grins on their faces and a rejuvenated soul to strengthen their manual labor.

The captain would be found locked up in his cabin, a gentle knock to his door alerted him of someone's presence outside.

"Who is it? I'm busy" he called out.

"I've brought you dinner" responded Shiva.

"Dinner?" the captain rose from his seat to open the door and peer at the waitress presenting him a bowl of soup and a slice of bread.

Shiva smiled at the captain and pushed the bowl to his arms. "Enjoy~" without another word, she sauntered off.

Baffled by her actions, he stared at the bowl in his hands and frowned upon it. The hell was the woman up to? Trying to poison him so soon? The bowl would be tossed away without a second thought.

On the other hand, Shiva required sleep as the pot of soup had been reduced to metal once the sailors got a hold of it. All of the quarters were packed with at least a group of five sailors with two sets of bunk beds – sometimes three. Even then, there had been one bed left unclaimed for the night, and it probably belonged to the sailor who had been shot this evening thanks to her. Hesitating to occupy it, exhaustion had accompanied the sandman as she climbed into the bottom bed to pull the thin cover over her. The pillow consisted of a pile of clothes belonging to the man, reeking of filth as she tossed it aside to be greeted with dirty magazines tainting her innocent mind. Lacking the energy to even push them off, the woman would simply collapse on top of them and fall into a peaceful slumber. Today was one heck of a day.

* * *

So the crew has obtained a mother-like figure aboard their ship, or at least a cook. The captain continues to torment her with every step, so let's just hope his crew does a better job at comforting her than forcing her to dispose of a body while its still warm...


	4. First Time for Everything

WARNING! CHAPTER CONTENT CONTAINS A GRAPHIC SCENE-ISH!

* * *

Chores – Why was she doing chores?

That's right; Shiva had stowed away'd into the Dead Pool – Gangplank's ship when a small outbreak of rivaling pirates caused mayhem in Bilgewater's market. The one day she decides to go shopping; the day she replaces the life of a healthy pirate at sea with her own. The mop had to be cleansed each segment; the floor's questionable stains quickly irked the woman as heavy traffic further wedged the filth into the unreachable cracks. Tempted to seal off the area she claimed as her cleaning ground, the main deck would prove impossible to keep clean for more than a minute. Did anyone even care about the cleanliness of their ship? Probably not; these men were accustomed to such conditions; worse, perhaps.

One of the crew members had approached her hesitantly.

"Hey, wench, are ye gonna be making us here some dinner t'night? I'm starvin'..." the one-eyed pirate asked.

"Excuse you! I have a name – Shiva Armetige, and you will address me as such!" the woman almost fumed at the title he bestowed upon her. "You will also be polite when requesting a meal".

"Hrn...whatever'll make ye get dinner started" Shiva would opt to take advantage of his offer.

"Here, get moppin'!" dumping her cleaning chores on the pirate, he'd stare at the items as if they were alien.

When did they get a cleaning crew? They never had one before.

The kitchen had been occupied by hungry sailors chopping up potatoes and simmering them in water to claim it as a meal; they clearly lacked the skills to cook, and didn't seem the least bothered by their choice of food.

Shiva found herself stared upon by soul-less eyes brimming with a hint of light at the possible meaning of food to be served.

"Ya here to cook, wench?" one asked.

"I'm not a wench! My name is Shiva, and I won't be cooking unless you address me as such!" she fumed, but exploded at the sight of dishes piled from last night and today. "You can't even wash your own dishes!?".

So many triggers in a single room. Massaging her temples to inhale deeply before releasing it with a quick huff, she pointed at one of them and ordered him to wash the dishes.

"I ain't no cleaning boy" he had a distinct southern accent, but he refused to partake in this clean-up of hers.

"You want food? Get those dishes washed" Shiva threatened them.

"I'd rather die than do a woman's job" the venom pouring from that one word caused her to turn on another nearby crew member.

"You, dishes! If you want food" she ordered.

"Sorry, lass, but I only take orders from the captain" he rolled his shoulders into a shrug before walking off.

Available candidates were running short, and she could've probably finished half the dishes by now. Exhaling in an irritated manner, the silver-haired woman would wash the dishes herself as others either looked on or took a peek before moving along. Cursing innocently under her breath, this had eliminated time from actually cooking; the men would wait longer for their food to be prepared and served.

Tonight's meal; Clam Chowder. The massive pot from last night would serve its purpose once again; cook the soup.

Crabs, plenty of crabs to be cracked open for their meat, and sliced square potatoes to add to the thick broth of cooking chowder. Bits of celery mixed with the concoction, and would soon draw in a crowd of sailors itching for a bite to eat.

"If you want daily meals, you'll all need to start washing your dishes! It takes a few seconds, I swear! "she called to them, but was most likely ignored.

"Just serve us the food, woman, we're starving here!" called one.

"Ya would've been done eating if I didn't take that extra hour to wash your dishes!" she pouted before finally distributing the food to the hungry sailors.

Most didn't wait to seat themselves before digging into the scorching hot soup before returning to their duty on-deck. By the dozen they were fed, all requesting at least two servings before sating their hunger.

Once again she'd been left to do the dishes; lovely. The pot almost empty, and dishes stacked up would occupy her time for another hour while maintaining the kitchen in pristine condition. Sadly, it'd only retain its status for several minutes until a loud crashing sound resonated through the ship; followed by a vigorous shake toppling her over.

"ALL MEN ON DECK! ENEMY SHIP ON THE HORIZON! READY THE CANONS!" cried out the voice of the captain.

Under a minute, the deck flourished with crew members running like disorganized ants adjusting the mast and sails to catch wind and sail towards the enemy ship. Captain Gangplank had assumed his position on deck and navigated the Dead Pool through familiar waters.

Shiva's first experience of the battles waged on at sea, and the scratch worth of damage had rocked the ship enough to cause plates to shatter, and her pot to spill over. Groaning at this, she'd spend her time cleaning up the mess until the loud foot activity upstairs frightened her; the commands grew fiercer, and the crew responded with battle cries.

Drifting to the main deck to observe the spectacle before them, their speeds had almost caught up to the ship in sight; twice their size, and firing a barrage of canons at them.

Gangplank wasn't one to maneuver his way through the rain of canons, but tackle them straight on without an ounce of fear. That smug grin on his features as he called out to his crew to be wary of ropes attempting to hoist the enemy onto their ship. Men with machetes stood by the railing until they rammed against the enemy ship ceasing its fire; cries of men could be heard; growing louder until grappling hooks and ropes fired to pierce the thickened floor of the Dead Pool to guide their men down. Gangplank's own men fired off grappling hooks as the crew climbed them with haste to mount the enemy ship; the blood fest had begun. Machetes sliced and dices through the flesh like butter, tearing viciously without mercy before receiving a death blow from a pistol. Gangplank easily picked through the invading pirates boarding his ship by firing at them upon their descending on his ship, causing them to splash into the water below.

His crew kept the men occupied as he intervened in some clashing battles to outnumber the opposing pirates; one had spotted the silver-haired female and grinned as he charged directly into her direction. Gasping as she fled back inside to stumble through some debris and furniture clogging the hallway, she took refuge in that same closet during the first incident.

The pirate had followed her into the empty quarters, loudly shoving the furniture aside and anxiously peering into every room while uttering out threatening phrases.

"Little lass~ Come on out and I'll think about going easy on ya." he called out in aloud whisper of sorts as he bounced his blade from one hand to the other.

The large male had a few teeth missing from his upper and lower maw, and dressed in a tattered peasant top with cargo pants; satchel strapped to his waist as he gazed around with his only functional eye, the other masked by an eye-patch.

Maintaining silent in the closet, loud footsteps caused the floors to creak, alerting her that the man was in the vicinity. He spent no time searching through obvious hiding places until his hand flung the closet door open and grasped a handful of Shiva's hair to toss her on the floor with a loud thud.

Yelping on contact, he mounted the helpless woman and pressed the tip of his knife onto her jugular.

"Don't be thinking I'll be put off by raping a dead woman. Your body will still be warm by the time I'm done with ye" he warned her.

Shiva had to remain still, even when his horrid breath caused her to gag in disgust. That same blade trailed down her outfit to rip open the top and spill her heavy chest for him to grin at.

"Can see why the captain chose to have you as his slut..." he amused himself.

Forced to bite her tongue as his rough hands handled her breasts without an ounce of care – it caused more pain than pleasure. Why was no one around to help? The gunfire had ceased some time ago, and she couldn't hear the commands from the captain anymore.

The ruffian had dipped a finger into her slit to wiggle it about as she gasped in pain.

"A virgin? Aren't you glad you'll have the best sex in your life before you die...or maybe I'll bring you aboard once I'm done and let the others have fun stretching you out – how does that sound? Least you'll be kept alive for a while longer" he withdrew his finger and shuffled to unbuckle his belt.

The grotesque thing to reek as bad as his mouth caused her nose to scrunch in disgust. Silently praying for the heavens to answer her cries for help, the pirate had ceased momentarily as pacing footsteps could be heard down the hall. Taking the opportunity to assume it was her crew, she cried out in hopes of being heard.

"HELP! PLEASE!" though, a good slap to the face from the pirate would shut her up.

In view, the captain and another mate had stumbled upon the scene. Without a word, Gangplank shot the man with a clear head shot as he shuffled to retrieve his lodged pistol.

Entrails of the pirate's brain had splattered onto her dress and face, her parted lips almost had her swallow bits of his blood as his body toppled over with a thud. Screaming in a mixture of fear, joy, and confusion; the captain ordered his man to clean up the mess before departing without a care in the world; the last man of the enemy had been slain in cold blood.

If Shiva had hopes that they responded to her plea for help, she'd be notified that the only reason the captain 'assisted' would be for the disposal of an intruder on his ship; nothing more, nothing less.

Temptation had risen for the mate left behind as he disposed of the body by tossing it to sea, and occasionally stole quick glances of the woman's exposed chest. Shiva would shakily saunter off as men would soon join in filling the corridor, also catching quick glimpses before minding their own business. Where did they shower? How did they rid themselves of the filth from such events?

None offered a solution, but half the crew had to take turns sleeping before returning to duty; less than a dozen had fallen to the number of casualties suffered from this attack. Beds were available, and the late hours gave her no choice but to attempt sleeping with half her dress stained in another man's blood and entrails. Emerald pools wide open while repeating the near-rape scene playing in her head, she'd find difficulties staying asleep for the remainder of the night.


	5. Hust

The taste of the pirate's blood continued to linger within her mouth, her pallet growing accustomed to the taste while her mind assembled the man's entire figure as her bloodshot eyes remained opened the remainder of the night. Gangplank had saved her; not exactly a vision she'd ever dream of, but it happened. Without another ounce of sleep, the woman rose from her cot to examine the bed's contents; an oversized shirt belonging to its previous owner in a worn-out condition, but she wasn't anyone to complain if it meant concealing her exposed chest. Draping the cotton shirt over herself and buttoning up, the woman trekked down the corridor to find herself in front of Gangplank's chamber, knocking enough to alert him of her presence.

"Come in" the man invited her, assuming it was an informant relaying his status on their voyage.

Disappointed to find Shiva standing adjacent to him, he grunted in disapproval before idly resuming the studying of a map he knew better than himself.

"What do ye want..." he commanded of her.

The silence was anything but productive, his cranium rising to shoot a piercing glare at the woman wasting his breath.

"You deaf now?" he added.

"Thank you..." she uttered, her emerald pools set on the pirate as she'd almost tear up from such meaningful words to him. "If it weren't for you, I-".

"Don't let it get to yer head, lass. The scumbag was in a room punishable by death to intruders...I was merely upholding my own rules. Go share your words of empathy to someone who cares, I'm busy" the pirate dismissed her, grasping the map in hand to turn the back of his seat to her.

Feeling a heavy burden from the lack of sympathy the man displayed for her, the silver-haired maiden excused herself from his presence without another word. In the horizon - the crack of dawn alerted the crew that another day in their voyage had passed, but not without good news being shared. Before leaving the ear-reach distance from the Captain's chambers, Shiva overheard one of the crew members alert him that they were a few hours from arriving at their destination at a local port in Bandle City.

The relationship between Bandle City and Bilgewater were on questionable terms, mostly due to the raiding of ships when exporting goods to neighboring cities or Ionia. Even Gangplank had assaulted a number of ships without remorse, but today they'd be arriving under neutral terms - to stock up on supplies for their ship. Should all fare well, they'd even arrive stop to port at Noxus before reaching their destination to Ionia - reasons not disclosed to anyone but the Captain.

Morale raised at the thought of restocking on food supplies, her lips finally managed to exercise their muscles to form a small smile. Directly marching to the kitchen, the pile of dishes would not dampen her soul this morning. Striving to prepare one last banquet for the men; today, they'd receive their fair share of a three-course meal.

Grateful to say, there wasn't a single soul who didn't line up at the kitchen to receive their generous serving of a hot food with a complimentary treat to raise their vigor for today's meals for the day. Come to think of it, Shiva felt confident in her ability to be accepted among her crew members as a respected member; though, in reality, most had yet to learn her name.

One man had been occupying the dining table until every last soul returned to their duties, but this one - this one lingered. Once the others stacked their bowls before excusing themselves, this one particular male had risen with his bowl and approached her. He stood at a good 6'4" height, towering her by a few inches as he barely dipped his head to gaze upon her. Extending the hand holding the bowl, he offered it to her with a stoic facial expression. Her curious pools matched his own, examining them with an inquisitive stare as she'd find nothing but an endless abyss reflected through grim features. Accepting the bowl hesitantly, he'd finally dismiss himself without uttering a single word. Finding it strange behavior for someone with such polite manners, the woman had to once again tackle her daily quest - wash all the dishes again.

At last, they'd arrived at the port as scheduled. Granted, not at the heart of Bandle City, but a smaller town dedicated to the import/export business bandits and con-artists loved to thrive in. This bustling small town was called Hust. Typically used to serve as a loading station to venturing sea-adventurers, the occasional pirate or two were often allowed to indulge in their goods before sailing in a matter of hours.

An addition to this wonderfully corrupted town, various commodities were offered to maintain this 'peaceful' town in order; brothels, taverns, love hotels and the sort were available to all. Excitedly, the entire crew was allowed to disembark the Dead Pool and spend the next several hours tossing their gold at women specializing in servicing them or intoxicating themselves on cheap rum.

Shiva took pleasure in neither of these things, yet dared not question when the Captain marched his way straight into the brothel with two courtesans in arms and a bottle of rum practically bottle fed to him. Others would join him, but not in such a glamoured manner. Instead, the silver-haired woman took the opportunity to take a trip to the central market and load up on future meals for their continuing voyage. To her surprise, a group of men were in charge of handling it. For the love of whatever-god-rules-here...THEY WERE TRYING TO BUY ALL THE POTATOES AND BREAD AVAILABLE! Taking the chance to intervene, the woman practically snatched the pouch full of gold from the ring leader's hand and held it possessively.

"Do you PLAN on living off of this for the next couple of weeks; months, even!?" she scolded them.

Eyes widened when she noticed WHO exactly she snatched the bag from - the well-mannered man from earlier. Oh. That stoic expression was staring at her; a group of them, even.

"What do you suggest we buy, Ms. Armetige?" his monotone voice asked.

"...a-are you genuinely asking me to decide- wait! How do you know my name?!" extremely surprised regarding the man's memory had caught her off-guard.

"You announced it during our first meal. How could I forget the hand which feeds us?" the man smiled at her.

His young adult features were most flattering, and even earned him a small flush of her cheeks by staring at his handsome face. Short shaggy hair, a tan from the daily exposure when performing daily duties under the sun, and a healthy athletic build leaving little imagination to how well his clothes complimented his figure. The man was actually smiling.

"Please, if it means adding variety to our stale diet, we'd be more than grateful to listen." his cerulean orbs almost caused butterflies to flutter in her stomach.

"W-well..." she stammered with an averted gaze. "Vegetables and fruits would be a lovely contribution, but they'd perish after a few days...so, I figure ingredients lasting year-round would be a better choice..." Shiva suggested.

"What about beef and poultry? Eggs, perhaps?" he added to a list.

"That would be great! Spices and other complimentary ingredients like tomatoes and onions would be great!" Shiva was excited for at least ONE person to consider her selection of foods.

"Alaric - Al, for short. It's a pleasure to meet you" he extended his hand. "Oh, these are Mark, Tom, and Hal. They'll assist with carrying the load".

"The pleasure is all mine..." she shook his hand firmly.

Between them, they conjoined the information to select the ingredients they'd buy in massive bulk to cram into barrels and load them into the food storage in the ship. Meats, poultry, and grains would be purchased enough to sustain them for at least a few weeks. Satisfied with the collection onboard, Shiva and Alaric had a moment to indulge in a pleasant conversation regarding their disposition.

"Alaric the Mast Master, eh? Fancy title~" she teased him with a playful nudge.

"For you, it would just be 'master', sweetie" he returned the tease, erupting into a small burst of laughter as her cheeks lit up. "I also do amazing art on the body."

The man rolled up his sleeve to reveal a sleeve carved in various colors of ink to display his talent to the woman. Impressed by it, he'd offer a free drawing whenever she'd vouch it in.

"I thought you were gonna be like the others - not that I was assuming such! Just...it's nice...to finally be able to talk to someone..." she smiled softly.

"I may not be the most chatter parrot when on duty, but you're more than free to drop by my room a few doors from your own." he lightly patted her shoulder before sauntering off, and for good reason.

The Captain and his crew had returned, with love marks visible wherever exposed, wide grins plastered on their faces as he howled orders to depart immediately. Without much of a choice, Shiva would resume her position in clearing out the deck to mop a layer of shine across it.

Today had been the best day to forget the tragic events from yesterday; almost. Finding new hope in this Alaric and the start of a friendship, the woman returned to the confines of the kitchen to enslave herself in preparing the last hearty meal for today - chicken soup for the soul. Bits of chicken, enough to satisfy the dull pallets of the crew members, she'd be delighted to attempt to deliver a bowl to the Captain once again locked in his chambers.

Politely knocking as not a single sound could be heard, she figured the Captain had left, but the vivid lighting of the room stated otherwise. Entering without permission, her voice rung in the room with a chime. Setting the bowl down on his table, the loud footsteps of the pirate could be heard creaking the wood behind her. Quickly turning to face him, a timid smile blessed her features as she presented her offering to him.

"Chicken soup, Cap'n. Added a whole leg in hopes of gi-" the pirate loved to interrupt her mid-speech.

"The hell do ya think yer doin' in here, lass? Don't cha know I've every right to blow yer head off right where ye stand?" he adjusted the belt to his trousers, his bare chest exposed as his damp mane gestured he'd just stepped out of a shower.

"I-I didn't mean to intrude, I simply wanted to-" another interruption.

"Get out before I take back my warning..." he ordered.

Without another word and her head lowering, the maiden darted out of his room without a sound.

"Stupid wench needs to learn her place on me ship..." he spoke before seating himself and once again knocked over the bowl in spite.

Alaric promised her company, should she desire it, and she required it at the moment. Come to mention it, he mentioned being a couple of rooms down from her own, but in what direction? Sigh. Passing through a few open doors down the corridor, a faint buzzing sound resonated in one particular room which caught her attention. Steering in its direction, Shiva peered into the room to find Alaric using an instrument to carve a detailed crest of Bilgewater onto a male's obliques.

"Almost done. You'll be just another Bilgewater-lovin' wharf rat." Alaric spoke to the man.

Opting to leave Alaric be, the man actually called her in mid-work.

"How ya doin', Ms. A? I'm almost done with this buffoon and I'll draw that cute heart ya wanted on your cheek after" he chuckled, the buzzing sound of the pen carefully guiding itself through his delicate hands.

"Shiva is just fine, and what cute heart!? I don't ever want a tattoo!" she huffed, sitting across from the man and his client.

"You break my heart...how else am I supposed to put my hands on that body" he teased.

"Buy me coffee first" she chuckled.

Joining in the chuckle, the man's hand never failed to deviate from the canvas he diligently worked on.

"Never figured you'd vouch in that company coupon so soon. Something wrong?" he asked, a hunch foreseeing a plausible inquisition.

Moving in to almost shut the door, Shiva plopped down on one of the beds to settle in. This questionnaire may be an uncomfortable subject for the male; anyone, for that matter.

"What can you tell me about Gangplank?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Quite a dangerous topic to tread around, missy. Not even his own crew is curious about his nature. We're just slavin' away while earning a portion of the gold we manage to collect - it's a good life if you're one to take risks for the sake of adventure, but it's not always easy getting to the grand prize." spoke Alaric with a grim tone.

"So, why follow him?" a common question to ask, she thought when uttering it.

"We're misfits. We don't exactly have a life outside of this ship - no friends, family. Heck, some of us have slain our dear ones just to come aboard. Including the Captain; that's how he became the Reaver King. Slayin' his old man; the previous Reaver King, and his ma. The older seadogs tell a couple tales regarding the Captain at times - those who've been with him longer than us young lands." the man patted his canvas to alert him that he finished up.

Leaving the section exposed to openly display his new tattoo, he shot Shiva a subtle grin before exiting the room.

"You like him or somethin'?" he finally asked with a raised brow.

"No, that's not it...I've been trying to express my gratitude for saving me a handful of times. Would have been dead twice over if it weren't for him..." she spoke softly. "Been trying to do something nice for him, but-" she'd be interrupted.

"The Captain doesn't do nice. Just silently enjoy that you're even alive on this ship and continue on. His emotions are non-existent, all the man knows is how to be a pirate and a captain. Ya try finding anything irrelevant to that, and you're gonna find yourself diggin' up dust." he spoke sternly.

"I see..." she spoke with a lowered tone before a sudden bump draft caused her to bounce.

The ship was rocking, and the subtlety of the light creaking of the wood and dangling overhead lit candles made it obvious. With a smug little grin, Alaric rose from his position and patted Shiva on the shoulder with a friendly gesture.

"Prepare yourself," he sauntered to the door to creak it open "We're in for a storm."


	6. Into the Storm

The notorious Blue Flame Storm; dubbed by the yearly rampaging sea storm which claims more lives than a Noxian in a lifetime, was reeling the ship into its domain. Alaric had abandoned Shiva to claim his post and hoist the sails upon the Captain steering the front-point directly into the shrouds of dark clouds within the distance.

"Hold onto yer panties, lasses - they're about to get wet." he cried out in a jolly fashion.

Their supplies were strapped down, leaving nothing to chance as they feared to lose the supplies they'd just stock up on. No moment passed without heavy footsteps forcing the floor to creak as they paced back and forth in all directions - while they survived the storm, there was always a chance of casualties; no exceptions. The trick was to stay alive and tough it out through it. Shiva was left alone in the bunkers, not a single soul in sight.

Certainly, the soup had been scraped to the bottom as all hands were required on deck. Yet, Shiva felt if she were to contribute into the vessel which harbored her, her presence would be required on deck as well.

Climbing the flight of stairs leading to the darkened scene tainting the vivid image of the ship, a sprinkle of rain layering them with a damp floor. Most had grouped at the apex of the deck, staring at the flashes of thunder sparking them an entrance from afar - their rocking ship steered directly into the pits. By now, the sunlight had abandoned its flock of sheep often guiding them through fair seas - but, they entered the unforgiving talent of the ravenous storm tyrant.

Gangplank had the smuggest grin she'd seen yet. A firm grip on the steering wheel as he expertly spun it when appropriate.

"Prepare for the crash course!" warned a man.

Everyone held onto the rail, but Shiva's gaze lingered on the Captain with interest.

"You'll be claiming no lives today, monster. I'll be the one conquering you..." he uttered to himself.

Within reach of his mumbling, Shiva failed to secure herself as a sudden crashing of waves knocked her off her feet and sent her toppling on top of strapped barrels. Everyone had dispersed to check on the equipment and ensure everything was secure. Massaging a sore spot on her backside, she spotted Alaric attending to the mast with such concentration - the man almost seemed angered.

The storm's rain attempted to drown them in the thick portions of rain dropping upon them, easily flooding the deck if it weren't for the gaps in the rail. Even then, various crew members had wooden buckets to scoop out the excess in corners without drains. Their Captain was the only one at ease during this treacherous voyage. With the wind howling with such vigor, even the sails were flapping free from their confinements.

"Secure the sails! don't let 'em break free or else we'll be in a heap of trouble!" called out the Captain.

Alaric responded with a nod as he climbed the mast to position himself at the straps he tied earlier. The wind showed no mercy as his hair was tousled chaotically, smacking him across his features as he struggled to carefully tighten the rope around the wiggling fabric.

Without noticing how drenched their outfits were - their chaotic adventure would lead Shiva to perform a questionnaire on the fearless Captain sporting such 'jolly' features. Ascending the Captain's deck seemingly unnoticed, the man had turned with such a wicked cant of his head, it sent shivers down her spine. He was a madman.

"Your panties in a bunch yet, lass? You best hope the wind doesn't carry ya up into the sea" he spoke with a mild tone.

Finding it to be a form of relief that he chose an optimistic approach as opposed to a pessimistic statement that he desired the wind to take her - she couldn't help but smile faintly.

"How long do these storms typically last?" her voice was near screaming from the obstructing sounds of the hard rain and wind attempting to beat them into submission.

"Depends how we decide to cut through, and at what angle! We've just traveled up the skirt, lass. Just wait until we get deeper...then, I'm sure even you'll have to start screaming at the top of yer lungs." his information was quite useful. "We're heading for Noxus, so the storm won't let up for another two or three days - at least.

"We stocked up on supplies at Hart, why are we going to Noxus?" she'd ask.

"Lass, I'm not sure if you know this, but...food on the ship to feed at least thirty men won't last us longer than two months at best," he stared at her with a displeased look. "We stock up on supplies to last us for our journey to Ionia. If the winds favor us, it'll be a good two months from Noxus."

Content with his explanation, the cool wind hid the slight flush of her cheeks when staring at the Captain with admiration. His surprisingly relaxed attitude, as opposed to the other times, set her at ease, and she desired to milk more out of him if he'd allow it.

"You love the sea, don't you" her figure approached him cautiously.

"More than any woman I'll ever love, and definitely more than any village I've pillaged." he cried out with pride.

"Have you ever loved a woman before? Truly?" her curiosity was piqued with each question he answered.

"No. A woman will only want to take what I love most; the one thing truly meaningful to me. The sea and my vessel. All women are good for is a decent lay, a decent meal, and to get in the way of everything. Whatever else you may think you're good for, lass, discard it - you're the prime example of what to expect in a woman." and with that, the Captain fell silent for a moment.

Silenced by the magic which had been extinguished, his expression shifted as he furrowed his brows and yelled at his crew once again.

"If I find out you scallywags haven't tied down the cannons and ammo, I'd be glad to get rid of some weight!" he yelled.

Immediately, a batch of men dispatched themselves to attend to such.

"You best leave my side, lass. I know what you're trying to do - sweet talking to me isn't going to earn you anything but a ban from my ship. Best move along to someone docile" the pirate added lastly before returning his attention to the steering wheel.

Eyes widened at this statement, yet his crimson hues didn't dare steer from his focused attention on his crew and wheel. Lowering her gaze, the silver-haired woman climbed down the flight of stairs before entering the cabin and head for her bunk room. There was nothing for her to contribute in outside, she was only useful in the kitchen - how typical.

No one had ventured down here, aside the men currently tying down the cannons and such. Dinner had been served some time ago, but from the manner, the beds were empty at this hour only gestured that they'd be working non-stop until the storm cleared. Alaric was up there with his teammates, so she couldn't pester him for her selfish needs. No one needed her - she'd only get in the way.

Three days had passed since they ventured into the storm, all three days the men worked with little to no rest. Completely famished by the strenuous task of maintaining their vessel afloat in the midst of the storm - it wasn't easy. The storm was merciless upon them, and it had even taken a toll on the Captain - none complained.

Patches of the crew guided itself into the kitchen in hopes of finding their cook already preparing dinner but were surprised to find rows of bowl steaming with red meat marinating in its juices. Loud gasps would sound from the group, practically drooling and awkwardly walking to the tables to claim their bowl. Shiva smiled warmly to them as they stared at her with a form of regard. In prior encounters with the storm, they'd fill their bellies with raw potatoes and whatever else was around, but with Shiva working the kitchen - the men were finally grateful for having a rare meal already served after days of no rest and labor turning their muscles into mush.

"...forgive me for not being useful on deck, so I figured you could all use a nice meal instead," she uttered as they focused their attention on her.

This may have been the first time they disregarded their food to listen to the woman - even if their rumbling bellies begged them to dig in.

"Hey, lady - Shiva, rather. Before you came along, we ate raw vegetables or whatever we could scrape up and went back to work. You cookin' fer us is pretty damn helpful if you ask me." one spoke, receiving various nods of approval.

"Dig in, boys! We've earned it!" the men cheered before their loud munching and slurping sounds could be heard.

Shiva was touched, greatly. Has she finally earned their respect through filling their empty bellies? Hopefully. Yet, her thoughts lingered to what the Captain spoke during that unforgiving rain.

 _"You best leave my side,_ lass _. I know what you're trying to do - sweet talking to me isn't going to earn you anything but a ban from my ship. Best move along to someone docile"._

Those words haunted her for unknown reasons, and it caused her to space out for a moment before one of the men had given her a mischievous grin.

"Nice tits, lady." his proclamation earned him the attention of his peers as they turned to laugh at the suddenly flustered Shiva.

Forgetting the trips into the rain earlier today, the woman's ample mounds were perfectly visible in the see-through fabric. Cheeks flushed a shade of crimson to shame the red rose, and she crossed her arms over them before darting out in embarrassment; the men's laughter could be heard down the hall.

Escaping by means of fleeing to the deck, the cool aftermath of the storm provided a breeze capable of drying her damp shirt. While the sun attempted to peek through the gray clouds, little sprinkles of water could be felt as the Captain steered them to the outskirts. Finally able to lean against the railing to stare at the vessel cut through the waters like water, her figure leaned up enough to hear a small creak in the wood. Nothing to worry, though.

A pair of hands could be felt shoving her forcefully as her feet lost their balance. Almost immediately, her shoulders were grasped and pulled her into an upright stance before a hearty chuckle sounded before her.

"Saved your life." grinned a playful Alaric from behind.

Turning to frown at him, she'd slap him if she could, but puffed her cheeks into a pout instead.

"That's not funny!" she scolded him.

"Yes, it was." he reassured her.

"You have a horrible sense of humor..." she frowned.

"You're lucky I didn't actually push you overboard because then I'd have to extend my joke and actually save ya. Don't worry, though - I'm an excellent swimmer." he beamed at her with a bright, confident smile.

"Pirates..." was all she could utter.

Both stared at each other and erupted into a fit of laughter.

"Have you gotten your serving of food yet?" she asked him.

"Mm, I will in a bit. Saw you run out and wanted to make sure you were alright" he replied.

"Mm, just...it's nothing. I guess the storm just proved to me I'm kinda useless aside cooking here" she confessed.

"Must be hard cooking every day" he said nonchalantly. "Not like you were out here for three days straight."

"That's just mean..." she pouted.

Alaric laughed, followed by Shiva's laughter before he patted her shoulder.

"You're doing just fine. Don't let the others give you a hard time. In fact, I think we held out pretty strong with what you've been feeding us as of late - look, I've even gained a bit of flab."

The man lifted his tattered shirt to reveal his defined midriff as he practically pinched skin. Her cheeks flushed at the sight before clearing her throat and averting her gaze.

"Yeah, yeah...if it bothers you that much, I suppose I'll start feeding you guys salads." she teased.

"I'm gonna have to slay a few throats to fill mine with food. Excuse me." he marched without another word.

He was serious. Shiva observed him march off as she was left alone again. Sighing softly, the man had vanished from sight as she returned to the wonderful view of the sea with a warm smile. The way the peaking sunlight reflected itself upon clear waters had captivated her, the ship soaring through the riptides and the cool air already drying her top. Shutting her lids for a moment, her figure reclined onto the rail as a hum of pleasure vibrated through her lips. Silver tresses flapped in the wind as a voice called to her, yet she disregarded it.

"I'm surprised the sea is calling to you, woman." the voice had dragged her back to reality.

Gangplank stood behind her as she sharply turned about-face.

"Cap'n..." she uttered.

"Normally, she calls to those who she desires to bind with - for her to call to you is truly rare." his hand was occupied peeling an orange, staring off into the sea among other things.

"What do you mean?" she'd ask.

"The sea is an unfair woman with selfish desires to claim lives she does not own. Typically, it's among the collection of sea-lovers who sail her more than they experience the land." he explained simply.

Silent as to prevent uttering anything which may rile the pirate, he continued to feast upon his fruit as he minded her no real attention.

"I should get to cleaning the kitchen...excuse me." dismissing herself, the pirate let her go in silence.

Staring back to see the calm Captain enjoy his snack, she wondered if bringing him a bowl of food would sate his hunger after these past couple of days. Surely he would toss it like the rest of her food. Frowning upon this, she simply sighed and marched to the kitchen to find her usual pile of dishes stacked up and a cleared room.

"...it isn't going to clean itself..." she groaned.

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Editor's Note: Next chapter will contain a special event! **YOU, YES YOU** will be writing it ( kind of ). Either message me with a possible scenario on what you wish to happen on the next chapter. I may pick one of various request and spread them out throughout the chapter!

Next Stop: Noxus.


	7. Saved Your Life

An estimated time of one month had passed since their departure from Hurt in Bandle City, the Captain spoke of docking near Noxus to restock for their voyage to Ionia. Now, they sailed through auspicious winds and a lively crew silently celebrating the lack of casualties on the storm they'd conquered.

Three-course meals were provided to maintain the crew's spirits at their peak, and some have dared to approach Shiva for...female-oriented tasks. Alaric had served as a beacon to gradually reel in the other crew members requiring a woman's touch.

One male had emerged from the entrance and hesitantly approached her.

"Miss Shiva...I'd like t'ah as ye a favor..." the man presented a puddle of clothes to her. "While ah don't mind showing off mah donger to tha crew from time to time - ah would appreciate if...ye could patch it up. If it ain't no trouble fer ye."

Suppressing the exalted state she self-inflicted. Accepting the bundle of work, she lacked the items required to even sew. He noticed her troubles as he withdrew a half-round needle and a spindle of thread; the rusty needle with blotches of crimson had her worry what exactly its purpose was prior to this.

"S'all I could find. If ye need any help, jest call fer me, the name's Mal - at yer service," he dipped his head in a bow.

Mal wasn't the only customer Shiva would have. Soon enough, her room was stacked with piles of unmentionables requiring a patching or two. The only pesky issue was the stench radiating from it; the men clearly didn't shower, ever. Bypassing the reeking pile of clothes, she obliged by mending their outfits before redistributing to their respective owners. All were grateful for her accomplishment, and even moreso when their scheduled meal time emerged.

Content with the current living situation aboard the ship, Shiva had opted to visit Alaric shortly after a recurring patron had left his dorm with another portion of his flesh inked. Finding comfort in the male as he spared time to lend an ear when she required. Alaric found it to be a pleasant change to converse with a new member of their crew. In truth, he found her to be appealing.

In the past few weeks, Alaric and the crew had given a proper tour of the ship to the woman and given her pointers regarding the care of their ship. Granted, she wasn't skilled in the art of labor work, but she managed semi-decently.

One event consisting of net fishing for a fresh batch of fish; Shiva had been included to partake and learn from it. Requiring, at least, two men to hoist the net from the water with their catch wiggling, it forced them to use every bit of muscle they owned. Feeling a twinge as she winced and released the grip from the net, the men hurried to unload their catch onto the deck before Alaric turned to Shiva and examined the trickle of blood seeping from her finger. Examining their catch as a particular jellyfish had been captured in their claims, he assumed the worst and immediately placed his lips on her index finger and suctioned out the blood.

Bewildered by his actions, the manner he responded so promptly led her to believe something was wrong. The collected pool of blood had been spat back into the waters before smiling softly to her.

"If that jellyfish stung you, you could've been dead within minutes. Don't worry, you're fine now," he offered words of solace.

The man continued to hold her hand as her cheeks flushed at the sight; he had just saved her life.

"...t-thank you," she uttered in a soft voice.

"Saved your life~" he chortled and returned to discarding the useless loot back into the sea.

"...you're not gonna hold this against me forever, are you..?" she'd loft a brow.

"Probably not. Though, I would be considered a hero amongst men," he boasted, posing rather heroically over the pile of fish they had collected.

Stifling a chuckle as she humored him, she'd lace her hands behind her and shut her lids before sauntering to the hallway.

"Then, I hope my hero would mind if I prepared him a fine meal~" she winked playfully at him before vanishing into the familiar kitchen.

Meeting a pair of sailors who had begun peeling a sack of potatoes prior to her arrival, her presence startled the men before awkwardly trying to explain their self-appointed task. Apparently, they were attempting to create a meal for themselves using the repetitive motions Shiva performed during her time in the kitchen preparing their food.

Happily instructing them the basics in preparing a meal, they contributed to a satisfying extent - if only they weren't constantly picking off the bits of meat. Turning a cheek to their sampling of their future meals, she'd resume adding the ingredients before they'd assist in lugging the massive pot to the stove and allow it to simmer to perfection. Content with the results, once the pot had boiled their meal to an ideal state, the crew members arrived to indulge in their hard-earned meal in rotation.

Alaric had consumed his meal with additional portions thanks to Shiva, and he intended on repaying her with a pleasant conversation. Gesturing for her to follow him out of the kitchen and to the rear of the ship, he playfully shoved her to a discreet section just behind the Captain's cabin to enjoy the cool breeze after a hot meal.

"So, where do you hail from, Ms. Shiva?" he plopped himself down on a crate with an exaggerated exhale. "Picked you up at Bilgewater, but figured you may have been misplaced."

None had inquired over her origins before, and she couldn't simply state she belonged to another realm. Shiva wasn't born in Runeterra, and it had been only a handful set of years since her arrival - desperate to blend into the seemingly decent society she dwelled upon. Fumbling her hands while pacing back and forth, she'd decided to be honest with at least Alaric.

"You're right, I'm not from Bilgewater. I'm from...elsewhere" figuring a different approach to elaborate her statement, she'd turn to face him with embarrassed features.

"Demacia?" the man was completely clueless, his arms folding over the concept of his chest while examining her. "I figure you to be more Demacian than anything else."

"Demacian? I figure you to be a Zaunite than Bilgewatian" retorted Shiva for no apparent reason.

"You'd be correct about that, though. Born and raised in the city of Zaun, where my childhood consisted of poor parenting guides and deliquency," he simpered.

The man shifted uncomfortably, his gaze momentarily averted from his own as if he were embarrassed to shine a light upon his history.

"I'm assuming you had good parents to show ya, at least, a good life," he smiled at her.

Parents had always been a difficult topic for her. No mother to raise her and her father treated her as a student more than a daughter caused her to envy any who had, at least, a set of adults to call 'mother' and 'father'.

"I never met my mother, and my father was more of a mentor than a father figure. To be honest, I learned most things on my own. You'd be surprised that at one point I lived off of rations because I was unable to cook!" she chuckled to ease their spirits.

Shiva subconsciously gravitated towards him, sitting beside the male and plop down with a soft sigh.

"Must've been difficult to be alone" smiled Alaric while fiddling with his hands.

"You get used to it, really. Solidarity is a greedy little demon who calls to you when you're happy with someone else." she returned the smile, her own hands fidgeting on her lap.

Alaric would lightly grasp Shiva's hand and slowly reel her in, his lips would collide with his own in a tender manner just before withdrawing an inch and utter in a hushed tone.

"I can be quite greedy myself..." he spoke as if tempted to lean in for another kiss.

Flustered over his actions, she did not deny him, nor reclined when he pursed his lips for another. Leaning in to return the favor, their fingers laced with each other just before he rose to a stand and hesistantly released her.

"Hey, I have a small present for you...meet me in the dorm in a few. I'll be waiting." stealing another peck, the man offered a bright smile just before darting off with elation beaming from him.

Placing the pads of her index and middle over her lips, she'd smile and saunter languidly along the deck to idly pass the time. Frequently forcing herself to stop smiling over the event which transpired moments ago, she'd finally dart off to the hallway when an unexpected voice called for her.

The Captain's cabin had to be passed before reaching the dorms, and Gangplank's call could not be ignored.

"Shiva, come in here for a moment..." his rugged voice commanded.

Ceasing her footing as it shifted to enter the confines of the room, the Captain was nowhere to be seen until a loud slam of the door started her and coaxed a gasp. Upon turning aboutface, she'd view the pirate as he locked the door and gazed at her with a malicious glare.


	8. The Betrayal

**WARNING: RAPE SCENE THIS CHAPTER! IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO READ IT, SIMPLY SKIP TO THE BOTTOM!**

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Gangplank had blocked the only means of escape from his cabin; she really felt like fleeing with those piercing crimson hues staring right through her soul.

"You've been a real hassle since ya boarded my ship, lass." he stepped forward, forcing her to step backward.

Like a wolf cornering its prey, he'd force her to bump against his desk before pushing her frame onto the cluttered surface of his desk.

"First, you force me to kill one of my crew due to your curiosity..." that hand of his grasped and swiftly shredded the top to expose her ample mounds.

If the Captain hadn't always reeked of rum, she'd figure him to be inebriated to perform such a thing. Stricken with pure surprise, an audible gasp escaped her lips when peering up at the rugged pirate. Unable to fend herself; she couldn't.

"Second, you're nothing but a burden to my crew having them take care of your useless self..." he spoke in a guttural tone.

Lost in a sea of turbulence, the silver-haired maiden's thoughts wondered why all those events transpired into this traumatic scene rivaling any near-death experience she's faced. The sound of a zipper restored her conscious as the sudden press of hips onto her own would earn him a yelp.

Her spine was aligned along the surface, but her posterior remained exposed and her thighs parted as he had nestled between them. Their exposed flesh greeted one another, and it wasn't until the sight of his mast prodding her nether folds alerted her what the pirate was attempting to do with her.

Extending her arms to frantically cling onto his sleeves, her upper portion raised enough to match his hues. The expression on her face pleaded for mercy from a cold-hearted pirate, yet her feeble hands clinging onto him would gesture a form of security she sought from him.

In a single thrust forward, the lack of natural lubrication and the sheer size of the mast breaching her innermost sanctum earned him a silent scream her shriveling figure expressed. Collapsing onto the surface as her gaze never failed to sever from his own, the forgiven betrayal mirrored within her tearing orbs had caused even the pirate to cease his movements, if only for a brief moment.

"...I trusted you..." she'd choke on her words just as the pirate had withdrawn to readjust her.

Forcibly shifting her frame to bend over the desk, he'd grab those slender shoulders and maintain them pinned with a single strong hand while the other grasped the small of her waist and guided her hips into his own.

The pirate leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"Good. Now trust me.. if you let out a single scream...I'll kill you."

Consumed with fear, the woman dared not challenge it. Instead, her face remained pressed on the wooden surface as her figure frequently jolted forward with hands desperate to grasp something, anything for support. It hurt so much.

Quiet whimpers and sobs muffled against the frame as loud smacking sounds of the flesh filled the room.

"If you're to continue leeching off my ship, you'll serve your Captain as he demands it." he stated bluntly. "I care little what the others desire to use you for."

Canting her cranium to rest her cheek and glanced up at the pirate with tearing eyes glistening as a rivulet of tears rolled down her cheek, he'd decipher why a twinkle faintly flickered within those bright orbs. Forcing himself to drill into her depths, betrayal reflected as her silver tresses smacked against her features, yet nothing on the twinkle.

For the oddest reason, he couldn't help but manifest a rare emotion pirates ever received; love. Did she love him?

Regardless of the figure an hourglass would envy, he found no interest in man's ideal for a woman he currently plowed. The wave of silver locks bathing her shoulders and back with its silky-like texture only tempted him to grasp it within his palm and pull to force her to rise. Yet, he only reminded himself that she was no courtesan to indulge in such lustful acts upon, nor anyone meaningful to grant such privileges to.

Shiva radiated a faint scent akin to white carnations, his nostrils tingling at the calming fragrance meant to be savored in a passionate-filled session; this wasn't one of those moments.

His hips accelerated their speed and force, almost as if attempting to break her with each thrust; he despised that stare. Furrowing his brows as he recalled several events between her and Alaric, he held himself responsible for allowing both crew members to grow so close within the past month.

Witnessing several gestures, no matter how subtle, Alaric and Shiva had been performing small tokens of affection upon one another in his presence. Several minutes ago he had the misfortune of witnessing the love birds engage in a relatively innocent pecking session.

Oh, how his lips formed a grin. If Gangplank hadn't had called her into his quarters, Alaric would've surely claimed her for his own; he had stolen his woman. Yet, why did he choose this punishment our of the other plausibilities. The man wasn't one to indulge in such things unless the mood stricken - this wasn't one of them. Yet, he felt satisfied.

One event replayed in his thoughts like a record; the moment he saved her life; quite literally when fishing for a fresh batch of fish. The jellyfish which stung her would've claimed her life within the hour if left unattended. Luckily, Alaric had sprung into action and drew out the poisoned area before it reached the main artery; or even worse, a vital organ. Gangplank had been steering the ship at this time, allowing him to overlook this playful event as she sauntered off shortly after proclaiming a reward for his efforts.

Not to mention the famous session they engaged in behind his cabin as an open window had drawn in their conversation concerning their origins. He didn't want to hear it, but the air swooped in this information to his ears and stored it in his memory.

Where exactly did she originate from? Alaric assumed she'd best be suited as a Demacian, but they never clarified anything before their lips met and he had the grace of witnessing it.

The pirate's thrust had pumped into the woman with a newfound vigor, both hands grasped her motherly hips while denting the flesh and marking it from the sheer pressure he held her. Her skin puffed between his splayed fingers, he'd be able to see the red imprint of his hand on her supple flesh.

"You dont...ever..mingle with my men." his hips sealed with her own, unleashing his virile seed into her most inner chamber as he kept her plugged without real reason.

The tears hadn't stopped flowing and her lifeless figure simply accepted the generous donation.

Once he withdrew, the concoction of thick white batter and crimson fluid mixed to leak from her honey pot and pool at the floor beneath. Gangplank had nonchalantly zipped himself up and maneuvered to the door and unlocked it. Returning to his throne at the desk, his gaze never fell upon her still slumped figure before plucking a piece of paper he'd been examining.

"We port Noxus at dawn. Find something decent to wear if you decide to stay - might serve you well if you decide to leave or stay." he lift his feet to place upon the desk.

Shiva would finally peel herself from the desk, her silver tresses hiding that lifeless stare as even the Captain was curious to see. The once chirpy and joyful woman had been shattered, leaving his cabin with heavy steps and an even heavier aura encasing her. Paying her no mind, he'd not see where the woman wandered off.

No one did that night.

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Editor's Note: So...this happened.


	9. Biligu

Forgive me for the long hiatus! It's been a busy month, but I do hope to continue writing a new chapter at least once a week!

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Dawn had broken through the shroud of mist concealing the docking bay just miles from the city of Noxus, all came to clearing as last night's events continued plaguing Shiva's thoughts like a broken recorder. This was the leader they followed? A man who'd take advantage of any situation or person for his pleasure? Upset at her naivete self for failing to foresee the situation beforehand, the only option was to blame herself for his indecent acts.

Last night was reserved for Alaric and his suggestive tone to join him in his quarters, yet the maiden had been snatched for from her love interest's grip. Even now her core continued to pulse from the captain's not-so-gentle caresses. It still hurt. No preparations, no ointments; nothing had been beneficial to grant her even an ounce of pleasure. The captain had betrayed her trust and had taken something sacred from her in turn. He was a greedy pirate, as should be. Knees pressed against her chest, those streams of tears had layered her cheeks in dried salty water before another stream pressed forth. No one had discovered her whereabouts, not even Alaric.

In the distance, she could hear the captain and a hearty crew member announce their arrival to Biligu Port.

Alaric may have been the first to stand guard for a reason. His woman never arrived to join him in his room. While not a formal invitation and more of a suggestion, he feared he may have frightened the shy creature he couldn't cease the flood of her images in his thoughts. Yet, he remained hopeful. The young pirate had even splashed some water and briefly scrubbed off the visible patches of dirt from his body.

The captain had noticed his victim's lover stand guard as the others descended to the town below and execute their duties to restock the ship's supplies for their trip to Ionia.

"Volunteering ta guard the ship? Ye best not allow another useless body find its way in - we've enough of those already," the captain commented before descending the ladder.

"There can never be enough" Alaric uttered in a hushed and dreamy tone once his captain was far enough.

Only after complete and utter silence from the ship did Shiva emerge from her hiding spot in the lonesome chamber of the stock room. None ever entered unless they were assisting her with meal preparations, and that night they'd all been properly fed. Today's lack of meal wouldn't be questioned, yet the only image crossing her thoughts would be the disappointment of her actions; she must grace them with one last meal.

Ingredients were added to the massive pot; the sailors had done their task of cleaning up their dishes and it allowed her to work in peace. Those tears returned. Shiva couldn't stay on the ship, not if by chance the captain opts to fancy her again and add another traumatizing session to her subconscious. Alaric wouldn't leave the ship for her, and she wouldn't force him to. The ship was his home, what would a man of the sea have with a woman he'd only scratched the surface with? Degrading herself with pessimistic thoughts, all she could do was prevent the tears from spilling into the meal she'd leave the crew members with.

Leaving the pot boiling in the lowest flame, all her belongings were already on her back, having nothing in value as she crossed those slender arms tightly over her chest and ascended to the main deck to disembark from the ship. To her surprise, Alaric was reclined against a post while keeping guard of the entrance until his azure pools met her own. Butterflies fluttered in the pits of their bellies, so drawn to each other that their approach almost seemed orchestrated.

Alaric knew better than to assault her with questions regarding last night, and Shiva knew better than to mention it.

"I think Mal and the others have a pleasant surprise of rounding up the best ingredients for you, Shiva," he started with a calm mien. "Surely you'd be most pleased. Though, I may or may not have instructed them what pickings to get," that smile she adored almost broke her feeble heart.

"Are you heading out to explore the town? It's quite standard. I'd accompany ya, but I'm on watch. Don't worry, I won't let another beautiful and enchanting woman become a stowaway. I just may have to toss her overboard." he winked and erupted into a fit of laughter, trying to earn something, anything from her.

Not even a crack of a smile could be seen in her features, and he began to worry.

"Hey...if it's about last night - I'm sorry if it seemed-" the man was unable to finish his sentence before Shiva snapped back.

"It wasn't your fault" her warbled voice broke in tune.

"All I wanted to say was that - it's okay - no harm done," his smile would've lit up her features if it hadn't done the opposite.

"What do you know of harm..." no matter how childish this statement sounded, the woman couldn't bear to be on the ship another second. Yet, Alaric's presence was the only thing standing between her and freedom.

Before she'd even take a step forward, Alaric had delicately grasped her hand and shoved an item into her closed fist. Turning the hand to open her palm, the sight had turned the faucet of tears on. Alaric stood with an embarrassed smile as his hand caressed the back of his neck.

"I've yet to find the perfect match for it, but I think you'll give me better luck. Hold onto it until I do" he uttered softly.

The ring was beautiful. Carved to a matching fit as an emerald was wedged into its sleek design, the shrunken circle gestured it was meant for the woman. What a horrible time to be bestowed with such a thing.

"So, cheer up, will ya? Don't show the others or else they'll think I did something to ya," his goofy smile almost cracked a smile from her, yet all she could do was step forward and plant the loveliest kiss to his lips.

His breath beat lightly against her lips, those large hands already coiling around her smaller waist to pull her flatly upon his frame. "Careful now, that almost feels like a goodbye kiss..." yet his lips continued to lovingly assault her own as they were returned with a fiery passion.

Moments later, they had to fill their depraved lungs with air, only to gaze into each other's glistening orbs and plant one last moist kiss. Pained at the thought of leaving him, her feet climbed over the rail to find the ladder and guide her to the ground.

"I'll meet up with Mal" the last words she'd utter before vanishing from sight and blend into the flock of residents of Biligu.

Alaric's eyes followed intensely until she turned a corner and fell out of sight. Melting into a pool of emotions draining his essence, the man couldn't help but slap a wide smirk upon his features and eagerly await her return with the rest of the crew.

Such a moment would never arrive. Hours passed before the crew members returned one by one; the captain was last to confirm the boarding of his crew. Alaric worried for a moment until the last group happened to be Mal's group as they hoisted the batch of food to deliver to the stock room. His smile faded temporarily, often peering into the crowd and locking into any figure rushing towards their ship; none did after they deviated elsewhere.

The captain shouted his orders to hoist the anchor and depart from the dock.

Concerned for the abandonment of one of their crew members, Alaric voiced it to his captain. "Shiva has yet to return! We cannot leave another crew member behind!" few had fallen silent as most feared punishment for not executing their orders.

"She ain't no crew member. Only a persistent pest we may have finally been ridden of," Gangplank spoke in a venomous tone, yet there was a hint of satisfaction in the underlying of it.

Stalling deliberately on the sails in hopes of buying his love interest more time, his eyes couldn't peel from the docking bay with just a ray of hope she may have forgotten the time of departure. Inconceivable thoughts purged his mind, playing the worst case scenarios that Shiva may have been kidnapped, or even worse, she may have truly abandoned him.

In an abandoned alleyway, a clear view of the departing ship could be seen; Alaric standing by the rear while climbing up a mast and straight his eyesight while trying to locate a maiden with silver hair. In turn, her heart only churned in grief as the image of Alaric gradually faded from a vivid illustration to an invisible shadow.

Her eyes were swollen and red from crying since last night, suffering from a heartbreak and a betrayal of the only two men she cared for - the loss of her fellow crew members had also taken its toll. The reverberating clicks of heels were faintly heard through her muffled sobbing, a smaller apparition of a woman appeared beside her with such a proud stance, it almost sealed the faucet of tears.

"Has he taken something you love?" the sultry voice awaited a response.

The woman in question had a voluptuous frame, with a river of bright crimson locks highlighting those accenting cheek bones of her beautiful face. If the oddly-shaped hat hadn't been the first thing she glanced upon, she may have thought her to be anything but a pirate. A tube top of a shirt and flared sleeves complimented the victorian era of fashion; the leathery pants and boots engraved in gilt markings had her inquire who the woman was, yet an answer would be given before granted the opportunity.

"I've been tracking down the murderer for some time - I'd welcome you to my ship if you're able to give me any piece of valuable information, Miss...?" she paused in hopes of gaining a name.

"Shiva..." uttered in a hushed tone, she'd be more than delighted to offer the information of his current destination. "Ionia..".

"Well, Shiva, I'm sure you'd be a fine addition to my crew. I'm certain nothing would feel better than watching that vile pirate writhe in agony - you'll get to take part of it. The man is a fool to be disposed of. Fortune...doesn't favor fools." uttered the red-headed bounty hunter.

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 **Wanted to do a personal shoutout** to: Lady Syndra and VietnameseOP, and all those still following the story for being such dedicated followers! Thank you all very much. You guys are my inspiration to keep writing!


	10. A Pirate's Global Rule

Miss Fortune's ship welcomed Shiva more than GP's crew did for a number of months. Yet, so fond had she grown of them; she missed them dearly.

Alaric...her heart ached.

Given a brief tour of the frequented areas of the ship, she noticed a handful of women on the ship - apparently they were permitted on this ship. Of course, the entire crew contributed to the maintenance and well-being of the ship, and that left with Shiva slaving away in the kitchen with other cooks. No longer did the silver-haired female work solo in accomplishing a nourishing meal for hungry men and feel appreciated, but aided the regent cooks with peeling and trivial tasks.

No longer was she a slave, yet she longed to continue sewing the hewn shirts of careless men, feed them breakfast and dinner, to be teased over wardrobe malfunctions in kind spirits. Stifling a chuckle while revering over past events, the careless nature caused her to flick the sharp end of the blade at the pad of her index and coax a rivulet of crimson to stream from it. Notifying the lead over her clumsy accident, a bandage was wrapped around the wound and given a reproving lecture. Shiva dismissed the fleeting thoughts tempting her to plausibly have another accident, now peeling the potatoes at a languid pace to avoid any more injuries. She missed the Dead Pool.

Aboard the Dead Pool, Gangplank, and his men sailed at full speed for Ionia. His crew had been informed of Shiva's unexpected abandonment of the ship, and the first days were impactful as the nutritious meal they'd been provided no longer sated their hungry bellies and efficiency on their productivity had been visibly noticeable. Several weeks of being spoiled did that.

Except, being veteran sailors didn't diminish their laborious work habits. They worked at a standard pace, just as rehearsed prior to Shiva's arrival. It was satisfactory, yet their captain wondered what happened to his crew's elated spirits during Shiva's presence aboard his ship. One woman couldn't possibly cause this.

In his quarters, a vigorous knocking rattled the hinges of his door.

"A word, Captain!" Alaric's voice was assertive as opposed to requesting permission.

"Make it quick, I'm busy" Gangplank reciprocated while perusing through his map and eyeing a particular ship a respectable distance from his own.

Storming in with palms striking the table to plant themselves firmly, he eyed his captain with determination.

"What did you say to Shiva to force her to leave!" Alaric demanded with furrowed brows.

Gangplank bothered not to break his concentration from his private session with his map.

"Nothing. Just informed her of her place on this ship," he answered nonchalantly.

Assaulting the desk once more, Alaric noticed an odd particle of torn fabric on his desk. He examined it. At once he recognized who'd it one belong to. His gaze snapped at the following evidence at the droplets of crimson staining the floor only inches from the desk. Kneeling to drag his finger at the dried up substance, any experienced man would know where this particular blood originated from. Shiva had no wounds and; he found another substance caking the crimson fluid. All men produced this. Off to the side, he noticed various bowls of now rotten food on the floor as if someone had tossed them away - they were Shiva's offerings of food to the captain.

"You RAPED her!" Alaric rose to his full height and slammed the desk harder, toppling over a jar of ink.

That gained the captain's attention.

"A crew member's duty is to serve their captain. Whether it be through labor or other means" he stated simply.

Alaric was angered and every moment Gangplank thought he'd strike him. He expected it.

"Every crew member is treated equally, no exceptions. Unless you're opposed to our global rule.

"She cooked for the crew, mended our clothes, and this is how you treat her? She did not deserve it!" his hands curled into fists.

"No special treatment," he started "Unless you desire to challenge your captain and change the rules to whatever your noble desires want. That, or you could hold your tongue and return to work."

None was capable of challenging Gangplank alone, and they knew it well. Standing at full height, even Gangplank's seated self was intimidating by the deadly aura he exuded.

Alaric scoffed, spat on the floor and strode out the door to return to his post.

Only after various moments did Gangplank surcease his work to rise and leave his cabin and venture to the kitchen. From a distance, he could overhear two crew members arguing over...ingredients? Halting his steps just around the corner, keen ears on alert.

"No, no. That's not how she did it, you baffoon! You add mint and some of that...powder of there!" the man hesitated.

"Mint in soup? They don't mix well with chicken...do they?" the second questioned.

"How the hell do I know! Ya never bothered to ask how to prepare it, ya idiot!" both silenced themselves for a moment.

"Looks like we're going back to eating raw meats and vegetables, eh? That's the second time I say goodbye to mom's cookin'...".

His men were provided daily meals as Alaric stated. His men's spirits were high during her stay with actual meals filling the pits of their bellies as opposed to the poor excuse of raw vegetables they nourished themselves with. Shiva had delivered it to his quarters as well, but he had rejected every bowl.

Upon returning to his quarters, the man pondered the unspoken servitude the silver-haired woman had provided his crew members with. She didn't boast about it, she wasn't ordered to, yet she served willingly. His crew respected her - no easy feat. The corner of his lips tugged into a grin.

Returning to the map in hand, the miniature ship model trailing a decent distance behind him was dragged up to a distant land on the top-left of his map, Ionia. This ship had been following him for the past several months, and only recently did it close the gap as if intending to confront him - which it did. He knew who this ship belonged to; he had to. "Another duel you wish to have?" he muttered to himself "Another defeat you'll gain, Miss Fortune...".

Weeks passed before they'd reach their destination - Ionia - hiding their vessel in an assumed abandoned cavern to play the role of a prey in hiding. This wasn't their true intention of course. Miss Fortune's ship was only a day's distance behind him and he was sure they'd arrive by dawn the following morning. For now, Gangplank and his men tucked explosive barrels in ample crevices of the cavern, expecting a brawl to ensue between his and Miss Fortune's crew members. Of course, both sought to gain the upper hand on one another, but this tactic was merely a decoy - a getaway should the tides turn against his favor.

Patiently did they wait, resting, consuming rum, and surely enough dawn arrived. In the horizon, Gangplank's men could already see the outline of Miss Fortune's ship swelling in visibility each passing moment.

The only calculation he'd fail to notice was that Shiva was also aboard that ship he planned on plundering.


	11. Saved Your Life pt2

Miss Fortune's ship gradually approached the shore, instructing her crew and passengers to arm themselves with assigned weapons; pistols and the common blade for starters. Most were veterans in the art of war between Miss Fortune's men against Gangplanks, a burning hatred swelled in their chests for equally fallen comrades the closer the minutae of the mountainside they would fight grew larger each passing moment.

Even Shiva had been equipped with a standard pistol, a weapon never before handled. Anticipation and fear struck the silver-haired woman, the pang on her chest bringing nothing but doubt to her subconscious. Would she be forced to fight the crew she adored? Most likely.

"Remember why you fight! Gangplank and his men have wrought nothing but chaos and pillaged your homes for sport. Bring and end to his tyranny and avenge your loved ones!" the short speech motivated the crew as cheer erupted with raised weapons.

Good.

The enemy had fired off a warning shot, missing their rocking ship by a margin of a hair. Or so they thought it a warning shot. Another had been fired, splintering their main mast before a rain of canons poked holes and turned the ship into swiss cheese. Close to the shore, cries of agony and determination were heard among the swimmers reaching shore. The cavern was just above them, and a clear path to its mouth.

Taunted long enough, Miss Fortune's crew charged straight for the mouth in hopes of encountering Gangplank's crew, but to their surprise; no one was there. Cautiously entering, the stalactites embellishing the cavern left them dismayed. Why would Gangplank lure them here? An ambush? None knew.

Suddenly, pistols were fired.

Scattered men stepped out from wide boulders for a pre-emptive strike! MF's crew returned fire and all hell broke out. Advancing on Gangplank's men as more of their team suffered losses, MF pondered why there was a lack of men as opposed to the entire team being present. This was almost too easy and she didn't like it. Something was definitely wrong. Voicing for her men to advance with the partially retreating enemy, Shiva had yet to fire a single shot from her pistol.

Positioned at the rear of the raid party, she precariously follows while practically stumbling with each step. Shiva wasn't meant for fighting, nor did she fancy the thought of engaging in qualms between two notorious pirates. The cries of felled men from both parties was disheartening, veering her gaze from any left mortally wounded and denied a merciful death. One had pinched the hem of her trousers, smearing his crimson fluid on her shoes while pleading for a chance at life again. Silently shrieking with widened eyes, the matron fled from the route the group advanced on, maneuvering through unknown chambers until faltering at a dead end.

How far had her feet carried her? Who knows. How deep in the cavern was she? Unknown. Shiva tried to retrace her steps through the long corridors of the cavern, going as far as climbing walls in hopes of finding a shortcut or anyone to aid her. Alone, lost, and confused, the matron couldn't help but figure this may conclude her journey. Not even the sound of gunshots were audible, and how every turn looked exactly the same, she wondered if she'd been circling the same routes for the past...who knows how long.

"Alaric..." she whispered silently as if pleading to a god somewhere.

The kiss they shared lingered on her lips, a hand subconsciously tracing it as if it were freshly pressed. She missed him dearly. One misstep caused her to stumble from the small pile of dirt and rocks she had climbed over, tumbling down until she landed with a pained groaned. Shiva didn't wanna get up. She didn't. The rise and fall of her chest was the only indication she was still alive. Tears trickled down her cheek and soaked the dry earth before shutting her lids and cry until the tears ran dry.

Silence consumed her and time grew still.

"Shiva...?" a voice called out.

Ah, she was hearing things now.

The voice called to her again.

Eyes fluttered open with a hazy gaze staring at a shadow with blury features before her. It reached out to her and only until she felt another source of warmth did she realize she wasn't hallucinating. It was real. Widening her eyes to clear her vision with a forceful blink, the male's figure grew vivid until tears she thought could no longer be produced flowed freely.

"...Alaric..." hope swelled within her chest.

Alaric found the broken spirited Shiva, raising her from the floor to inspect her. A pistol beside her, blood on her pants and shoes, and plenty of dirt covering her frontal. At least she wasn't hurt.

"What are you doing here? How did you get here!" he interrogated her with concern.

"...Miss Fortune...has been stalking you...figured she'd wipe Gangpl-" her words fell short, the image of the aging pirate coaxing a whimper from her.

His brows furrowed and he held her hands with support. He knew why she had that bitter taste in her tongue preventing the uttering of his captain's name.

"...he confessed" he started, earning a surprised gasp from her. "...you could've told me...it wasn't your fault...".

Tightening his hold on her, a smile dawned on his lips before pressing his forehead on her own. He still loved her and nothing would change that. Loosening his grip to caress her knuckles with her thumb, he planted a kiss on her cheek to show affection for the woman he loved.

"...saved your life..." he laughed weakly in hopes of mitigating the moment.

Shiva reciprocated his words with a soft smile, a genuine dry laugh escaping her lips before nodding.

"That leaves it at 2-0, doesn't it..." she nudged him lightly.

"Aye, that is does. Ya might have to pay heavily for such goods...my prices aren't cheap" Alaric mused with a playfully threatening tone.

"I suppose upgraded meat wouldn't pique your interest?" Shiva simpered.

"It would, but I intend to make it more...permanent" one hand released hers to retrieve something from his tattered pocket.

Rummaging through it, he withdrew a ring of sorts and presented it to her.

"Typically, I'd find a less threatening soon-to-be-corpse to pilfer it from, but...I figured you were worth it" of course, Shiva's eyes widened until he waved and shook his head. "I'm kidding, kidding! I actually spent a good...earnings on it."

Already his hand slipped the object into her ring finger, the pristine metal only a size larger before he smiled out of embarrassment. Lost in the moment was Shiva, eyes widened with tears she fought back only to cleanse two paths of the dirt tainting her features. Entranced by each other's gaze, they shared a kiss for what felt like an eternity, caring not of the happenings of the world.

They were filled with mirth. A secret unspoken engagement.

"Step three!" echoed a voice from the distant. Both recognized who it belonged to.

"...the cavern is going to collapse. We've planted explosive barrels while luring Miss Fortune's crew in. The exit isn't far...we must hurry. We'll...start a new life together," he added while grasping her hand and guiding her through the semi-familiar route to where Gangplank's flank fled the scene.

In the vivid distance, MF's crew had advanced while picking off members of GP's crew within their range. Standing between both groups, the couple had to flee through a safer route.

"Step four!" Gangplank shouted, visible in the distance.

A pang in their chest swelled in both of them. In the moment, Shiva's foot sank in a pothole created through the weakened structure and sprained the ankle while falling. Alaric panicked when prying her foot out, the now limping Shiva concerning him if they'd make it at their slowed pace. Most of the fleet had safely escaped the end of the cavern, expanding the gap between themselves and the cavern for the impending chain of explosive barrels.

Scooping Shiva into his arms, they recovered a considerable portion of their speed, the exit only seconds away.

Crimson fluids sprayed from Alaric's chest and splashed onto Shiva. Finding herself falling with a loosened grip, the matron tumbled beside her love only several feet from the entrance.

His lungs were quickly drowning in blood, his blood shot eyes and convulsing body coaxing a cry from his mate finding the cavity on his chest too large for her hands to cease the fountain of red. One of MF's men scored a lucky shot, dealing a mortal blow and leaving the couple to face their faith after the sudden ignition of the barrels now revertebrating throughout the cavern. The exit was close and they figured they'd have a chance at survival if they ran fast enough. GP's men stood outside, ready to pick off any enemy who'd be so lucky to escape the explosion.

In his last dying breaths, Alaric attempted to force Shiva away, desiring her survival over his imminent death. She wouldn't budge and continued to plea for a miracle. His brows furrowed as a shadow cast over both of them, the male pushed her hesitantly until Shiva turned to view none other than Gangplank kneeling before them to hoist Shiva into his arms and slump her over his shoulder. One or two of MF's men shared Alaric's last breath on his way out, the silver-haired matron thrashing in GP's arm as if she were a victim and plead for him to return for Alaric.

He lay immaculately still as his hues of azure faded in color, those tense lips softening with a warm smile as the rise and fall of his chest finally ceased all movement. If only for a brief moment, Shiva could make out his last three words as he spelled it painfully slow.

Another cry of agony pierced even the quavering walls and explosions forcing the cavern to collapse once they had escaped through the exit. Extending a hand to reach for her lover, the faucet of tears flowed freely once more, the defeaning cries as the rubble piled high until Alaric's peaceful self was shut off by the newly sealed exit.

Against her will Shiva was carried, but her violent retort ended from sheer exhaustion as the remaining crew plucked her from Gangplank's arm to attend to her wounds. His last words continued to repeat vigorously through all of her, the ring serving as the last physical evidence that Alaric once lived, and the memories the crew carried. Shiva cried until she exhausted her supply of salty water, idly turning that loose ring with her thumb as she gazed upon the ceiling, alone in her room out of respect from the crew members who brought her aboard The Leviathan.

She wouldn't and couldn't sleep, her inanimate body laying like a lifeless doll until her immensely dry lips uttered Alaric's final words:

"Saved your life".


	12. Distasteful Soup

Two days had passed since the incident.

None had been successful to earn so much as a word from Shiva. The crew grew concerned for her health and the evident loss of weight during their time restocking the ship with supplies. Fragile as glass, the matron refused to even budge an inch. Oddly enough, their Captain was informed of her status by request.

MF's ship had sustained minimal damage and was deemed stable enough to set sail from Ionia after the ambush they confronted from GP's crew several miles from any village or city within the immediate area. However, Gangplank's ship, in turn, had sustained collateral damage in retaliation for the lives claimed that day. Nothing a day's repairs couldn't alleviate.

Alaric's and what other bodies were retrieved had a ceremony to commemorate the event. While Gangplank's crew returned victorious, they were grateful for the chance to recover until they'd be forced to confront MF's crew once again.

At last, their ship set sail back to Bilgewater, a journey surely to last at least three weeks. The men were returning home.

Breaking into song once given the opportunity to mourn their loss, the ship seemed move lively than usual. Rum was distributed equally, yet the sudden disappearance of the Captain mattered little. Indulging in the bitter-tasting food while washing it down with rum, the hearty laughs and cheers of the crew lifted their spirits while the midnight sky illuminated them with a sea of stars.

The door closed behind him, ensuring the privacy as he leered at the figure barely alive.

"Pitiful." he scoffed. "Is this how you intend to rot away? You lose the proclaimed love of your life and you have wishes to join him so soon. Women."

Whether his intentions to feed her need to pass away or to slap some sense into her was unclear, but he received no response from her.

"Let me help your cause, then" his arms scooped the frail figure and slumped her on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

Escorting the figure through the corridor leading upstairs, none had noticed their Captain sauntering to the side of the ship. One noticed. Except, he found it suspicious that Gangplank would carry the seemingly lifeless body of Shiva without an ounce of protest. He nudged a fellow mate to gain his attention. In a short span, the active crew had diverted their attention to the scene before them.

He uttered a few words and everyone witnessed Shiva's body being hurled overboard as if it were nothing.

"Man overboard!" cried out one of the men.

A group spread out like the plague, quick to obtain a lifesaver and aim for the sinking body in hopes of retrieving it.

"No. If she wishes to die, then appeal to her desires." Gangplank uttered to his men.

Hesitantly, they obliged and eagerly awaited for the body to surface.

"If she does not resurface, you continue as you were." without another word, he returned to his cabin.

Anxiously waiting for any sign of Shiva surfacing, the men held the lifesaver as if ready to toss upon command.

Falling in with a small splash, the only hint of light radiated from the small flickering fire of the ship and moonlight illuminating the area she currently sank under. Air had abandoned her lungs until her nostrils sealed to prevent the flooding of salt water into them. The faces of the men standing by were a blur, and surprisingly, the face of the Captain was more vivid than ever. Anger coursed through her, quickly warming up the plummeting temperate of the cold sea - realizing it was near freezing temperature.

The need for air finally forced her mouth to gape open, greeted by a generous rush of water to fill her belly and lungs in an instant. Sealing her lips, arms flailed frantically until a repeating motion was achieved to swim upward. Seconds later, glorious air filled her lungs after coughing out the bits stuck in her throat. Hearing the cries of the men, and an accurate toss of the lifesaver landing within reach- caused her to swim towards it as if her life depended on it - quite literally.

Steadily they reeled her in, a blanket and mug of hot water provided before escorted back to her room. Shivering in the sodden clothes, Shiva was grateful and quickly peeled them off to crawl into the warmth of her bed. Not too long after, angry protests from her rumbling belly warned her of the lack of nutrition in her diet. Not to mention the lingering taste of sea salt continued to assault her taste buds ever so often.

Rising to sit, a gentle knock on the door alerted her of company.

"Come in" she called.

Not but a moment later, one of the men walked in with a bowl of soup and bundle of semi-clean clothes for her. The soup was simply water, unknown spices, and potatoes. A poor attempt at imitating her soup. Accepting the bowl with a weak smile, a nod of acknowledgment was given before he dismissed himself. Sipping the 'broth', she quickly spat it out; it tasted terrible! How did the men have the stomach to eat this!? Able to form a countenance of disgust, she couldn't help but smile genuinely at the effort put into this. Every last bite was consumed out of hunger, the loud protesting groans of her belly forcing her to eat.

Fitting into the new set of clothes as her old ones were hung to dry, Shiva stepped out of the room to inspect her surroundings. Merry songs echoed down from the deck, the crew clearly recovered from the incident and continued their quest to become completely disoriented through intoxication. Oh god, the potato stew wanted to escape the pit of her stomach. Holding it in, the woman quickly stumbled into the kitchen and finally emptied what little content had filled her stomach.

Hungry once again, her eyes widened at the sight. Clean dishes. Even if there were traces of potato skin and other raw vegetables about, the dishes were clean regardless. Several hours into the sea after departing from Ionia, the stock room held a vast amount of supplies to cook a large variety of meals.

Her stomach continued to rumble. Oh god, what the hell was in that soup!? Meat, potatoes, and an arrangement of colorful vegetables were chosen to be laid out on the makeshift counter. Slicing and dicing the tray of soon-to-be-food, no assistance was required this one time. In truth, she was cooking for herself this time. The famous massive pot filled with water rested on the stove once again, fueled by four active pits of fire to stew whatever it was fed.

No plates were assembled, and the lack of men was clear that whatever was happening upstairs was definitely entertaining. Good for them. Sampling the broth, she may have accidentally taken a few more 'samples' to wash away that terrible broth she ate not too long ago. Serving herself first, a decent chunk of meat and vegetables complimented her plate, uttering a quick prayer and eating as if her stomach had been replaced with the bottomless pit of one of the men. Seconds was served, devouring it until satisfied.

Exhaling in relief, Shiva moved to the sink and washed her plate before turning to her room and patting the subtle bulge caused by the conception of a food baby. Groaning contently while laying on her back, her hand patted her full belly, yet a wave of nausea struck. Just how did the men create such a concoction? Fighting the urge to empty her stomach once again, Shiva tossed and turned until it settled down and allowed her to sleep.

Alaric...how he haunted her dreams. Tonight was no exception. Except, the dream was more of a repeating memory of the event from two days ago, those three words and the ring hanging loosely on her finger. Gangplank also haunted her memories, adding another reason to despise the man after tonight. He nearly killed her! He tossed her overboard and didn't bother to see if she'd resurface or not. So much, he instructed his men to simply standby and be idle until spotting her. Curling her hands into fists, she despised the Captain more than anyone, or anything, in that manner.

Incapable of staying up another moment, her body desired to rest at long last. Fluttering her lids to a shut, a silent curse was uttered towards the Captain, swearing she'd somehow return all the pain he's inflicted upon her.

Gangplank sneezed.


	13. Stand Your Ground

The days were imperceptibly coaxing Shiva to return to scheduled maintenance of the crew's well-being. Daring not to hasten their 'mother' to fully recover from both near-death experiences within days of each other - not to mention Alaric's death - they veered from taboo topics and maintained equilibrium best suited for her benefit.

No more distasteful soups nor raw potatoes to fill their durable bellies. Hewn raiments were mended through nimble digits stitching the fabric whole again. Daily meals, sewn rags, and acceptably clean decks were thanks to Shiva. In exchange, they opt to teach her the basics as Alaric once did. Fishing earned a pang in her chest, subconsciously staring at the finger one of the poisonous marine creatures stung her, yet it only phased her temporary before returning to aid the selected group to retrieve a fresh catch. Only a portion would be used for the soup, the rest sent directly into storage for another day.

Nothing was more intense than to see their Captain and their 'mother'-figure silently fighting a one-sided war. Gangplank retained his...pirate self, overwatching and commanding the crew as if nothing happened, meanwhile, Shiva shot him glares whenever their eyes or presence met. None had to guess why.

Several nights ago, the Captain hurled Shiva overboard and hindered his crew and their intentions to recover her from the frigid sea. Only until she resurfaced did they spring into action, safely returning her to her room with dry clothes. This had been the night the recovery ensued, the night Shiva once again cooked for the crew.

One night, the crew members happily ate in the lower cabin and left the deck in the care of the Captain. He wasn't to deprive them of good food. Their 'mother' wandered upstairs, in need of fresh air to clear her thoughts. If her silver hair wasn't any indication of her presence, the illuminating moonlight highlighting it surely did. Sauntering to the peak, the fleeting thought of her first conversation with Gangplank plagued her thoughts but were quickly dismissed with a shake of her cranium.

So serene was tonight, so she led herself to think. Planting her palms on the wooden railing to secure her position while leaning forth, a subtle breeze tousled her tresses as if she were a child. Taming the wild hair flaring out, a genuine chuckle escaped her lips before hearing footsteps behind her. A pang in her chest swelled, forcing her to turn sharply and meet the interrupter, Gangplank. Furrowing her brow at the pirate, within the next second, she stormed from his shadow and past him. So was her plan.

"I'm not going to continue being shown disrespect in my own ship, lass. If ye have anything to confess or vent out, ye best do it than bite your tongue." he uttered in her general direction.

"...you know what" she paused, the retort having no true follow-up as much as the need to object his word. "You nearly killed me".

Promptly turning to point an accusing finger at the pirate, the clear lack of acknowledgment only fueled the roiling flame of anger threatening to explode.

"Nearly killed you? Ye were already doing it yourself...I merely pressed it. I'm guilty of nothing - unless your act of self-loathing with the intention of passing onto the next life was all but an elaborate ruse. I saved your life, to be exact," his stern features displayed no jest in his words.

Eyes widened, those three words striking an unseen chord as he nonchalantly uttered it.

"You...you did NOT save my life. You bound me to this ship as a prisoner and simply passed me off as a 'crew member' for what...for your 'personal' benefit..." venom spewed in those words, and he knew why, they both did.

"Women aren't allowed on pirate ships if you didn't know," he started "If you hadn't been recruited, my men would've implored you either remain as a slave...of sorts...or by death".

Truth was spoken. Pirate ships never harbored women unless for sexual preference, or trade exchange. Shiva may not have been aware, but the Captain and his crew had it engraved into their skulls. No exceptions.

"You raped me" loss for words, Shiva conjured the only statement worthy of shedding light on his mistreatment since day one.

"What is a crew member who doesn't serve their Captain - even with carnal requests? You are not a 'woman' in my ship, you are just like them," he spoke in a matter of fact. "You expected special treatment based on your gender? You expected a comfortable and warming welcome to a ship you had no knowledge of who it belonged to? Even the lowest of scums knows who this ship belongs to...yet, here you are biting the hand of the one who saved you not only once, but twice?".

Lips remained parted, only the visible steam of her breath escaping. Mixed feeling sought comprehension. Had GP not assigned her as a crew member, her experiences aboard this ship would've ended the moment she'd been discovered. Verdant hues gazed into his piercing crimson hues returning the gesture with no ill-intent. Everything he spoke had been truthfully spoken.

Gangplank had saved her life without realizing it. Not only that, but he also protected her. It all boiled down to one simple question in hopes of arranging this new source of information acquired straight from the horse's mouth.

"...why" the word whispered for his ear only.

Closing the space between them, she could smell the freshly consumed rum beating against her face, the flickering hue searching for a preemptive answer. Just as he spoke, he brushed past her with the cluck of his boots weighing on the wooden boards.

"Why indeed" he returned the statement meant more than a question.

Air seemed to lack in her lungs, perhaps the fact that she'd been holding her breath for an extended amount of time. Releasing the invisible choker on her throat, a deep inhale rejuvenated those air-depraved lungs to a healthy swell in her chest. Exhaling, another question would rise to turmoil her once-tranquil thoughts.

Was Gangplank actually a good guy under that sinister exterior he bore every day?

* * *

Two chapters in one week?! Must be an early Christmas present!

So, what do you guys think of Gangplank now, eh? Now that he's revealed the secret to Shiva's survival aboard his ship? Is he truly a blessing ( An odd one at that! ) in disguise or does he have other intentions in mind?

Also, I hope my lack of quantity doesn't affect my quality! I do apologize for the...shorter chapters, but I promise to fill it with good stuff! ;w; Thank you for understanding!


	14. Inebriated

A week's away journey from Bilgewater port, the crew was allowed to celebrate one final time before returning to their home - at least what they considered it as - and squander away their 3 months worth of pay on fine grog, women, and wants before returning to the sea.

Down to the bits of spare meat and other pleasantries, Shiva had opt to expand their singular meal into a three-course buffet to celebrate the crew's return home. Appetizers consisted of an improvised version of calamari thanks to their earlier catch with a handful of baby squids. Replacing the flour with breaded crumbs, and certain ingredients to the tomato sauce, the men weren't to complain when a decent batch of food would inflate their bellies without consequences.

Served in small portions to each man, none were patient enough to wait for the rest to receive their share - the first served had long finished theirs by the time the last had their plate filled. Only then did conversation begun to fill the room with other sounds aside chewing and groans of approval, most spoke of what they'd do with their share of their gold.

"Imma go to the brothel everyday and order me tha finest beaut available." one uttered with pride.

"That's if she'll tolerate your hideous face enough to force down her vomit, lad" the group broke into laughter, denting the other man's pride for a moment before joining in the playful banter.

"While yer out havin' yer fun, I'll be drinkin' the most vile grog they have. I'd like to bid ye all an early farewell. May yer souls be blessed and yer cocks rest between fine breasts" he feigned distress, the room renewing its laughter.

"Amen".

"Jes keep yers 'way from me daughter's and I'll ensure ye return tae us with yer cock still attached, lad" one pointed with an accusing finger.

"Ya ain't even got a daughter, Myern ya bastard!" another shouted.

"Don't hurt tae imagine" Myern leaned into his chair with a smug grin.

Another small wave of laughter.

"S'long as a woman fills my belly and I stuff hers...if ya know what I mean...I think I'm good." another patted his belly.

"Aye, but she gunna have competition when you're with us and 'mother'; she's the best cook, afterall!" their cheers erupted harmoniously with the raise of their empty mugs.

Startled by the sudden call of her epithet, followed by a cheer, Shiva had been roused from her reverie and turned to face the men with a baffled expression. Completely tuned out through their 'man talk' and bold language, her attention had completely been centered on the massive pot stewing the crabs and clams creating the Seafood Soup she planned to serve soon.

"W-what?" she spoke with a pitched voice.

The wave of laughter continued as they took advantage of her counfounded state, poor Shiva missing it completely as if it were an inside joke. Her cheeks grew in color and her brows knitted into a small furrow.

"What cha planning on doing with your share, mother?" one inquired with complete honesty.

"Share of what?" she answered with another question.

"The gold. Once we reach Bilgewater, it'll be payday." he informed her.

"Oh. Well-" pausing for a moment, a distinct pair of boots and a growing shadow down the hallway hindered her speech as everyone turned to face the newcomer.

It was Gangplank.

Silence claimed the room. Awkwardly they stared at their empty bowls and mugs, some subtly shifted their gazes between their Captain and their 'mother'. The laughter had completely dissipated and only the reverberating sound of his heavy boots filled the room until he acquired a seat at the end of one table overlooking everyone.

For a moment, Shiva recollected herself before individually filling every bowl with the soup, adding a slice of bread on the side to compliment their meal. Rum was their choice of drink and perhaps the only viable beverage aside the filtered water. Gangplank was the last to be served, or about to be as Shiva recalled the previous times he'd denied her offered meals so curtly. Setting the bowl and mug down with a quiet thud, their eyes lingered on each other briefly before he turned to his crew.

"Are you all going to keep staring or are we going to eat?" he spoke airly with a hint of mirth.

The loudest cheer yet erupted with mugs raised and the rum spilled everywhere.

Returning to their jolly conversations filled with pornographic content, the Captain and Shiva were probably the quietest for a considerable amount of time until the others included them in their group conversations. Even then, their 'mother' kept quiet - they knew of her only sexual experience and teased her affectionately. And she knew it. Gangplank couldn't help but catch a glance at the embarrassed Shiva, playfully shoving her ring of companions with the occassional pout.

"No rum for 'mother'?" one queried.

"Come to think of it, never seen her lift a mug of it" another pitched in.

The group stared at her as others caught wind of the conversation and veered their gaze in her direction.

"Never had it..." she confessed timidly.

"Aye, it's a sin not to have ye first cup 'o rum!" a mug was already being pressed into her hands.

Curious why the entire crew was fond over this strange concoction of fluids, temptation lured her into the pressure while gradually lifting the mug to inhale its potent stench. Her nose crinkled and a grunt of disapproval sounded with a few chuckles encouraging her efforts. She wasn't opposed to the drink, she often witnessed the men drinking it as if it were water with no side effects. Little did she know - these men had more than a stomach for it. Claiming a spot on the rim of the cup, the splash of its contents already warned her pallet of the bitter and unpleasant taste, another disapproving grunt echoed from the mug. All too eager to hear anything else aside grunts from their 'mother', some had leaned forward in hopes of catching her first words.

The drink was terrible! Every glug pouring down her gullet burned, yet she didn't stop for the sake of...she didn't even know why! Heads followed her cranium tilting upward until the last drop was imbibed. Slamming down the mug as she's witnessed the other men do, silence had filled the room again with chairs creaked in protest to the shifting weight of the seaters.

Shiva belched loudly.

"It tastes HORRIBLE!" she emphasized with a groan.

Laughter and merriment reverberated through the walls, several hands clapping her shoulder and tousling her silver tresses in approval before returning to their meals and spread gossip of their intoxicated 'mother'.

Quickly, her bowl was emptied out of every scrap. Replacing the mug of rum with a cup of water, Shiva hoped to wash down any trace of that bitter drink from her throat before rising to dispose of her bowl in the sink and retrieve some of the stored sweet bread to distribute as the final course of their meal. Only now did she realize her vision began to grow hazy, the various attempts she blinked to restore her vision were in vain. A handful of men had returned to either their rooms or to the deck, including Gangplank. A hand clapped her shoulder with a gentle shake.

"Ye best get some rest, lass, lest ye wish ta find yerself in harm's way" he uttered and guided her to the hallway since her room wasn't far off.

"Thank you..." she thanked him.

With a nod, he returned to the celebration and left Shiva to return to her room, but failed to notice her steer the complete opposite way and stumble up the stairs as her inebriated state worsened.

"...there weren't stairs to my room..." she commented while clinging onto a rail near the Captain's cabin.

For a moment, the fuzzy overlaying images guided her feet towards the door before knocking once and falling through the door as it flung open. Falling with an audible thud, the Captain's gaze fell on her before returning his attention to the papers filling his desk.

"I'm guessing you somehow failed to find your room..." he commented.

"..I-I made a wrong turn on the stairs..." she stammered while struggling to rise to her feet.

A form of amusement swelled in him to witness Shiva in such a state, yet mostly observed at the temporary distraction from his paperwork. Knowing not how she managed to sneak up beside him and practically use the arm of his chair and desk to prevent herself from falling again, he minded her no attention and resumed his work. Expecting her to maintain upright or at least topple onto the floor, he was forced to withdraw his arms from the desk as she instead toppled on that with a giggle.

"Damn it, you useless woman" he grunted while quickly recovering the jar of spilled ink.

"I'm not uuuuseless...ss.." some of the ink spilled on her hair before rising to a stand again.

"Yes, you are. Go back to your room" he wasn't about to argue with a drunk.

"Am noooot...not not..." her hazy vision managed to catch a glimpse of him turning to face her and grow in size.

Nope, she managed to topple on him just as he turned.

"Then why k-keeps meee...?" her response caught him completely off guard.

That moment of pause had given time for Shiva to sit on his lap like a child and clutch onto the facing of his cloak with a surprisingly firm grip. He shifted uncomfortably before easing into his chair with a sigh. He truly had no response for her.

"Y-you say these things...you do these things...wwwwhy?" again, he couldn't reply with a genuine answer.

Hiccup.

"...d-does this mean...my trust...was *Hiccup* w-well plaaaced, after alllll?" she faceplanted onto his chest.

For the longest moment, he wondered if he should answer, or face the continuous assault of questions he'd yet to answer to a single one. Why did he keep her? Why did he even save her to begin with? Why- he felt her body go completely limp. Narrowing his eyes at the woman occupying his lap without allowing him to continue with his work, he pondered tossing her aside or at least calling one of his men to escort her to her room. Except, both would cause the drunk Shiva to rouse and pester him again. Leaning forth to remove his ink-stained leather gloves, the gloss of blue-black ink shone off the pads and he discarded them - ink was difficult to remove along with blood. During this shift of movement, Shiva's body readjusted with her head now resting on the opposite arm rest with a thud from his lack of attention.

He should move her to the couch, at least. About to hook his arms under her to hoist her up, one of her slender hands moved to gently clutch onto his sleeve. The thought of ravaging her filled his thoughts - this gesture triggering it along with those echoing words of trust - and he froze for a moment.

Did her subconscious trigger the event when his hands meant to hoist her up? It was right not to trust him, yet...her pleading words once cried out to his own subconscious. He responded. By flipping her onto her belly that one time, he was able to spare her the sight of the session. He recalled that flickering light of hope continue to sparkle in her eye. Little would she know - the actual number of people who trusted him outside of business - was just her.

Reclining into his seat, a dry groan escaped his lips before examining the passed out woman on his lap. Brushing a lock of silver hair from her features, a smudge of ink tainted her cheek to reveal a suddenly relaxed expression. It felt...odd. He had to admit that Shiva was physically attractive, yet his crimson hues remained focused on her stained porcelain-like face before finally staring at his work.

Tonight should be the night to relax like his crew. He slept on his chair regardless, and having the additional weight didn't bother him - aside the fact for WHO it was. Removing his Captain's hat to toss it away from the dried up ink, he folded his hands over his chest to settle in.

"Goodnight..." he uttered before joining her in slumber.


	15. A Dangerous Drug

Gangplank had no intention of falling into slumber, yet he found himself lowering a hand to feel the bump of Shiva's form spread over his lap. It was gone. Crimson hues darted open and noticed the lack of warmth from his lap where she had laid across. How-

One of his men barged in - to notice the ink spilled over the parchments and work he'd done.

"Little too much to drink, Cap'n?" he inquired with a soft chuckle.

"Of sorts." dismissing the thought of the vanished Shiva, he discussed their approximate arrival time to Bilgewater.

Six more days. The man excused himself to return to duty. For a moment, Gangplank simulated a situation in his thoughts: What if the man had stumbled to see Shiva laying on his lap? Gossip, surely, but that wasn't his main concern. How did he manage to fall asleep without feeling the slightest movements? Even worse, why did it suddenly feel cold?

The days breezed by until the harbor of Bilgewater was within the horizon. Eagerly did the crew gather their belongings and adjusted the sails to ease their speeds and eventually steer the ship into the docks upon arrival. A gentle rocking motion confirmed their secured stop, already slamming down the thick boards to descend on the pier with other crews simulating them. Some crews were departing, and others were returning from their long voyage.

All the men had emptied out the ship, leaving Shiva and Gangplank as the last members - the others were too eager to spend their earnings.

For a moment, Shiva was hesitant to climb down -knowing not why it was so- yet once the Captain had made the motion to join his crew, she followed. Her steps were languorous, albeit precarious, and Gangplank's keen hearing caused his own gait to pace itself.

"Not the expected speed of one who was so eager to return home." he commented.

Eyes widened to Gangplank's distinct back. So he had noticed.

"Just...enjoying myself" a pitiful lie.

"Enjoy it" his pace accelerated to gain distance from her.

This was their farewell.

Instinctively, Shiva sauntered down the familiar path leading to her current residence. Luckily, it was morning and the streets weren't plagued by aggressive drunkards and alpha males seeking to establish their dominance on weaker prey - like her. Just one last turn and she were home...at last. Curving her lips into a broad smile, the anticipation, and swelling warmth beating against her chest caused her to finally burst into a sprint.

There it was. Her home. Or at least, what had been housing her for several years. Sighing in relief, she found the tampered boxes off to the side strange. Was her landlord cleaning? There were only two or three of them - so it was highly doubtful. There was a letter nailed to the front door of the home; an eviction notice.

Perusing through the letter, due to Miria's death -the old woman couldn't possibly pay for the home after her passing- the government had decided to claim it and put it up as stock. Anger boiled through her veins, realizing the level of corruption the government rested upon, so much as to reclaim an old woman's home after her death. Daring not to rip the piece of paper from the door, Shiva moved to the boxes and noticed they belonged to her.

Two months had passed, at least, and she assumed Miria had politely packed her possessions in case she ever returned to them. Rummaging through her belongings, anything worth a piece of gold had been harvested to sell elsewhere for a higher price. Only tattered raiments and compact toiletries remained in those boxes. Emptying a box to store the useful garments and items, Shiva carried the light-weight box back down the alleyways.

Wanting to stop by her old workplace, she'd hate to explain the reason for her disappearance only to return and ask for work; she was sure they'd give it to her anyway. Desiring no burden on her former employees, she'd opt to gain work from another bar or tavern with the experience under her belt. Without money, there'd be no food nor shelter, and what's even worse - it would require at least a week to obtain the hard earned gold. Where would Shiva sleep until then? What would she eat? All these questions had an answer, and it pained her to realize where it would lead her to - The Leviathan.

The only place she desired to be away from; the one she'd return to. Did destiny simply enjoy tormenting her? Regardless, it was her only option. Food, a room, and protection. Silently cursing under her breath while ascending the very bridge leading up to the ship, the lack of motion disturbed her greatly, perhaps from growing accustomed to the rocking vessel for the past two months. Eyes widened at the light emitting from the Captain's Cabin just before descending into the lower portion of the ship; she'd have to pass through and the door was wide open.

What was Gangplank doing here?

Nonetheless, Shiva approached with a polite knock at the wooden frame of the door to signal her presence. Hearing nothing, she invited herself in with a curious glance at her former Captain studying scrolls with updated events which had occurred during his absence.

"What are you doing here" his voice succinct.

"I just need a week...I'll do as asked and will recompensate for my time here." her verdant hues lowered at her plea and offer.

"I'll speak to Marcus about giving you an advanced pay, I-" Shiva encroached G

"I'm not working for Marcus..." she spoke with a hint of disappointment.

"Why" a statement more than a question, he responded.

"Wouldn't want to return after leaving for two months only to request my job back. Even worse without-" it was Gangplank's turn to interject.

"He works for me. He needs not to know any more than a sporadic need for a vacation" his attention had been diverted from his work to assess the situation at hand.

"I shall not use your name as means of threatening to silence him!" her voice raised on accident.

"You can find shelter elsewhere, then" his attention returned where it was required.

Although, his concentration was once again tampered by the sudden quiet gasp escaping Shiva's lips. His hand ceased its movements when his crimson orbs lay upon the watering eyes of Shiva before the warm liquid rolled down her cheeks. Desperately she attempted to fight them, but it only served to fuel the twinge pulsing in her chest. He'd witnessed her the crew's 'mother' cry once or twice, but never did his heart race as it did now. Under those stolid features laid a pulsing heart wondering why it responded to the cries of this woman.

"...fine" already her body turned to the door.

He swore his hands twitched from a sudden surge of pain unknown to him. Too, accustomed was his mind at receiving negativity from others and he'd care less, but that flickering light behind her jade pools tugged at him like none ever had. It baffled him. He knew he'd never see the silver-haired matron again unless-

"One night" he spoke.

Like magic used to bind targets, Shiva froze just before the wooden frame and for a moment figured she'd retort -as she always did- and engage in an argument, but she did not turn to face him. His hands twitched again.

"...one night" her voice barely audible before she left the cabin.

The chair creaked at his sudden shift of movement; he was leaning forward as if wondering where she had gone. That beating heart of his only accelerated its pace as he eased himself into the chair to collect his thoughts. Did she truly leave? His offer of sheltering her for a single night was laughable and probably mistaken as a mocking jest of her situation. Shutting his lids to a close, both hands rested uncomfortably on the arm rests.

Gangplank woke to the scent of two completely different aromas wafting in the room. Inhaling the scent, one in particular, caused his lids to shoot open and glance at the figure of Shiva sauntering toward the couch -which was perfect for her taller-than-average size- and sit with a warm bowl of soup. He remembered that scent; her scent.

Shiva had ventured to the showers and use the spare water to bathe thoroughly. Whatever shampoo or soap she used only restored the full effects of that intoxicating aroma he continued to inhale vigorously.

"Don't know if you've eaten..." her words snapped him back to reality as he eyed the bowl of soup at his desk.

No, he had forgotten to eat while perusing these scrolls. Brushing aside his work, both ate silently until he eyed the pajamas she had changed into. The hem of her long shirt barely wrinkled at her knees, and the baggy sleeves were tucked under her pits, accenting the size of her ample chest before it draped loosely over her midriff. At this distance, not a single mark was visible, leaving her with an afterglow of radiance he'd also witnessed in the past.

Caring not that the soup had spilled on his beard, he often left it to dry or wiped it off with his sleeve. Of course, the gunk had been building up over time, but nothing a good dip in the sea couldn't mend.

Disgusting.

Finishing her bowl first, Shiva set it aside before laying on her side with her back facing Gangplank.

"...thank you" she uttered.

Several moments later, he noticed the languid rise and fall of her chest; she had fallen asleep. Eased by her presence, Gangplank couldn't help but lean into his chair and shut his lids to a close.

He felt a growing warmth on his lap and dared to open his lids. To his surprise, Shiva had climbed onto his lap and brushed his tangled beard with her nimble hands. That intoxicating scent had permeated the air and he drowned in it. He groaned in pleasure, pleased by her delicate touch matching her scent. For the first time ever, the Captain felt completely vulnerable - if a woman who wasn't a courtesan - to climb so easily onto his lap and brush his mane-like beard without facing consequences.

Shiva'd find herself pinned down on her back on the table. At first, he was reluctant and surprised to see a familiar situation repeat itself before him, and he, the cause once again. In a swift movement, his painfully swollen mast pressed against her folds all too eagerly, yet his gaze fell upon hers. That smile of hers, that endearing smile tugged at the strings of his heart as he forced himself to surcease any further motion. He took this moment to inhale her scent, groaning in pleasure until a pair of hands cupped his cheek to gain his attention and lowered once acquiring it.

"Go ahead...I trust you..." her voice so mellifluous, he opts to imagine it as a spell.

How addicting those words were to him - to have such an effect on him. He thrust forward to hear a cry of pleasure and not pain. He lowered as if the single motion had drained him of all energy, and it wasn't far from it. Everything grew numb and he knew not why. Lips latched onto his neck as his hips instinctively thrust into her now rocking frame, the melodic tunes sung into his ear encouraging him to savor every piece of land he once had an opportunity to explore and took advantage of it.

She tasted heavenly, and he wanted more of it, of her. Surprised to find her taking his impressive size so easily almost made it seem surreal; a dream, even. He'd test the boundaries of this and tilt his head to plant a kiss on her lips. Forgetting the point of his quest, the pirate melted into the softness of plush lips and groaned in delight.

The Captain's eyes widened awake, the baffled pirate sweating, and worst of all; a throbbing mast begging for release. So, he was dreaming after all.

His eyes wandered to Shiva's slumbering form, rising from his seat to approach it before turning her onto her back and slip between her thighs. One currently dangled on the side while the bent at the side of his waist, his hefty organ massaging itself between her velvet folds and coaxing her own nectar in the process. He wanted to hear those three words from her, but she was sleeping and he wouldn't hear them. Shiva trusted him wholeheartedly and he knew it. Knowing she had the option to rest in her room, she chose his instead.

Without notice, he withdrew and draped a portion of his cloak to catch the rope upon rope of batter firing from the tear-shaped slit of his tip. Shiva stirred in her slumber, but Gangplank was quick with rolling her onto her side before hearing her groan in protest to a nuisance during her sleeping session. For a moment, Shiva rose to sit but quickly faceplanted with her posterior now raised comically. The pirate couldn't help but curse under her breath at temptation making a mockery out of it. He cursed her name.

Shiva sneezed.

* * *

Sneezes are contagious! Thank you all for the reviews! ( It really helps me write more chapters quicker! ) Keep 'em coming~

Shoople: Yes, I did draw the pic from my avatar! c:


	16. This is Bilgewater

Punctuality. Shiva had it. At dawn, Gangplank witnessed her rouse from slumber to skitter off and dress, presumably for the new bar she'd be working at. Gathering her belongings, the matron faced the Captain and bowed courteously with a meek smile.

"Thank you and...forgive my intrusion" she uttered softly, genuine with her words.

With a dismissive nod, she was excused from his presence. Once again, the pirate figured he'd never see her again - but destiny enjoyed tormenting him as of late and continued to push her into his wading path. Despite the pang in his chest, Gangplank wouldn't retract his offer.

The pirate life wasn't for everyone and most, if not all, had fallen victim to its clutches. Gangplank was literally born into it. Vincent, his father, was the former Reaver King. Martha, his mother, was his strong-willed mother who birthed him. The moment he cried to fill his lungs with this world's sweet air, the countdown for his parent's death began to tick. Tradition would have Gangplank slay his parents - mainly his father- to earn the title as Reaver King, and should he fail...death would claim him instead. Without the intimidating authority of his father lingering in the household, the progency freely roamed with a mother unable to tame the rampaging child. Commiting crimes before reaching the double digits, Gangplank had no limits to his crime with the looming title of his father to protect him. One day, even the young Gangplank would seek to step out of his father's shadow and collect the fear for himself.

He succeeded. His mother had been the first to receive a swift death as opposed to leaving his own father bleed to death. By his late teens, he sought a ship and crew of his own; the Dead Pool. Through trial and error, he learned the ways of the pirate -being the King of Pirates - they all bent to his will. Words, blade, and a pistol became his instruments of tyranny. Soon, a well-composed verse would be all he'd require to pull the strings of his puppets. His influence spread world-wide, everyone knew of Gangplank, the Saltwater Scourge. He presented himself at the Institute without being summoned; he was to represent all of Bilgewater and the vast sea at his disposal.

Except, soon he'd learn what it truly meant to be - not just a pirate - the Reaver King. Hate swelled in the minds and hearts of Bilgewater. No one enjoyed the fact that Gangplank could get away with anything and everything without consequence. Why? No one dared - nor could - stand up to him. His own men would abandon their Captain if they didn't receive the largest pay no other Captain could ever afford. He was cognizant of it all and had long grown inured to it all.

Weakness was never permitted to be demonstrated. None had experienced the sensation of a genuine laugh from the Captain if it didn't involve several mugs of grog already sloshing in the pit of his belly. Nor had they the pleasure of witnessing a lambency behind those crimson orbs - Phosphorescent lighting vehemented prosperously in contrast.

Calling Shiva would only add a potential dent on his exterior persona and that was something he'd not permit; he couldn't. Even so, the week had passed. Shiva never returned; especially after only allowing her a night - even he thought it was unfair - to take shelter in his cabin. The Captain couldn't bring himself to spend another night in that room and the scantily lingering aroma she'd somehow etched into the couch. Even worse, the urges it triggered, hence why he lugged himself to one of the local brothels he owned.

It operated under a surrogate owner in his absence, and the head mistress of the establishment needed not to inform her girls to flock the true owner. He needed not his usual - which usually consisted of at least two women - just one, one in specific. The fairest hair and the greenest shade of hue plausible. Borderlining uncommon features, neither questioned his request and was immediately escorted to a private booth with the courtesan eager to please.

Feigning interest in the woman unbuckling his trousers to find a slumbering mast to work on, the warming touch eased him into a comfortable position to merely observe with an absent mind. His conscious wasn't required when his body recognized the deed about to be performed. No doubt those lips were experienced, and she'd mentally pat herself on the shoulder at her accomplishment...if her lips were entirely the case.

Extending a hand to tuck in what he fathomed to be a rogue strand of silver behind those porcelain-like features, a pair of verdant hues should've been gazing at him with impeding and an inexperienced pair of plush tiers. In turn, the pair of bedroom eyes trained to entrance their patrons stared into his crimson hues. Easily he fit into the depths of her gullet with a non-existent gag reflex. For a brief moment, he snapped from his reverie when the woman questioned if her skills were not satisfactory at the sudden deflation during her work. Without waiting for a response, the surprisingly well-adapted courtesan straddled his lap and-

A distressed sound squeaked from the neighboring booth, the sudden muffled clanks of falling objects.

"Don't you know who I am?" the voice raised enough to be heard. "You'd easily resolve your situation if you'd allow me to-" the opposing voice interjected.

"P-please...I don't-" a gasp from the pleading voice as a smacking sound echoed over.

Gangplank recognized both voices, one more prominent than the other - only because she was the reason why he was here in the first place. The former, a wealthy client who filled his already full pockets with gold on a regular basis.

"Charles..." the Captain uttered with venom, surprising his courtesan as she withdrew and allowed him to rise to a stand.

Shiva had given Charles a limit, and it restricted him from ever dipping below the waist. On numerous accounts, he tried; he tried to be subtle and even sweet talk his way into it, but failed at every attempt. She couldn't be swayed and he grew impatient. Power and wealth meant everything here, and he had it in abundance. None of the girls, not even the head mistress would intervene, and his rictus widened in contempt.

"You've drained my patience, whore...and I shall take what I want." he bothered not with the mundane task of undressing her and merely lifted the fluffed bottom-half portion of her dress until he had clear access.

Knowing none of the other girls would help, or anyone within these walls, Shiva surrendered against the prominent force pressing forth to savor and forcefully coax the nectar from her petals.

"See, it isn't so bad? I'll be sure to leave you a...generous donation, mm? For your efforts." his hand rested on her hip as if to maintain her supine position.

Warm tears traversed down the familiar, long dried paths of her cheeks. It phased not, the oppressor, and renewed his sense to relish in the body of this fair matron. Just as he dared to push forth, his short-lived action was interrupted by the sudden barging of a tall and rugged pirate clicking the hammer into position.

"Your donations are no longer needed, scum." Gangplank spoke with no meaningless threat.

"The hell, can't you see I'm occupied" Charles attempted to recompose himself with no awareness at his courtesan's sudden relief.

Words weren't enough to deter the man from his goal, and Gangplank's hand made sure to remind him of the true prominent figure in the entire island. His hand yanked the male and hurled him out the booth effortlessly.

"There are rules to follow under this roof, Charles...and they all have dire consequences if not obeyed." his pistol already aimed at the male's face. "Or would you like to take this lesson to your grave...".

Scampering to his feet, Gangplank had no room for mercy - even if the culprit served to fill his bank with a couple of zeros. He fired the gun and flinched not when the entrails splashed warm blood on his face.

"Virshka, if you would" he called to the head mistress.

At once, the body was removed and the stains would be scoured to their best ability.

Entering the room with a mildly alarmed yet relieved Shiva, the stolid countenance of his persona hid any emotion regarding another death due to her cause.

"Why-" this time, it was Shiva's turn to be interjected.

"What are you doing here. Did you lie about working at a different tavern?" he interrogated her.

"N-no! I just...I couldn't after the third tavern.." she confessed.

"Third?" he queried.

"...the harrassment was beginning to be unbearable. Not much different from here, but at least I'd get paid after each session. I was lucky the taverns had rooms to house and feed me, but...it wasn't worth it. You set the rules here and-" Shiva was interrupted again.

"I know how my brothel works. Why didn't you return to Marcus?" he emphasized on the latter.

"How could I! Just because-" apparently the erstwhile would be the last complete sentence she'd spill tonight.

"Because of what? You refuse to accept an offer the mere fact that you...were forced to abandon your position over a misadventure? Conjure a believeable story and carry on." he waved a hand dismissively.

"After what Marcus has done for me? You want me to lie?" surprised at the lack of interruption, she continued "I believe in honesty and formalities...and Marcus has not earned the right to be lied to."

"It's because you chose honesty and respect which got you into this situation to begin with" he spoke sternly.

"No. You're the one who lead me here..." her retort stunned him temporarily "If-" Gangplank recovered enough to respond to her recriminations.

"I wasn't the one who lead you into my ship. I didn't force you to stay in my ship...and I most certainly didn't after Ionia," he spoke pragmatically.

It was Shiva's turn to be stunned.

"You're so concerned in the well-being of everyone except yourself. Selflessness will be your doom should you continue to reside in Bilgewater. You could go to Demacia, or even Pilotver and practice it...but you'd be subjecting yourself to their laws and be forced to obey like everyone else. If this situation were to repeat itself there...you'd be laying there until some poor excuse of a man would come to your rescue - if he ever shows up - or wait for apathetic law enforcement to 'investigate'. That's where your honesty and selflessness will get you."

Internally pertubed out of fear of witnessing another waterfall of tears to grace her verdant hues, the pirate found himself figuring his brazier demeanor may have overextended its boundaries on the poor thing; especially after the incident not too long ago. He wished to redeem himself.

"Stay here, Virshka will provide you with a room and I'll see that you are fed and accommodated until you're able to settle elsewhere. Should you need anything, you relay it to either her or myself," he spoke promptly.

Finding no reaction, he feared the worst and simply dismissed himself from her presence to discuss the matters with the head mistress.

It wasn't until the lifeless body of Shiva was escorted to her new room to rest. For what felt like an eternity, the matron processed all the newfound information until reaching a vital question to her way of life.

"Where can I be happy...?".

Given no time to answer her own self-imposing question, the matron rushed to the toiled and emptied out whatever contents remained within them. Oh god this nausea...and she continued to curse that terrible potato soup. The crew should never have grown used to it. The devil himself wouldn't use it as a method of torture.

Even through this hemmorage of distasteful soup completely cleansed from her pallet and system, the imaginative mind continued to manifest its taste upon her tongue. Her question from earlier...only one place brought her mirth.

The answer was so obvious.


	17. The New Recruit

Nestled comfortably in the confines of her room in the brothel, Shiva disliked being an incompetent leech -which she felt like after merely two days. Generous amounts of food, drink and other commodities were provided without it being asked of. The point was to find a job and earn her right to a decent home, not to be a freeloader at the expense of the Reaver King.

The only experience under her belt consisted of a waitress and cook during her time in the Leviathan, but not many enjoyed the inviting atmosphere radiating from her - not to mention the constant advancements from patrons and employees alike. Her first attempt to demonstrate her usefulness at a tavern resulted in sexual harassment from patrons and employees alike, none respecting her pleas to surcease their actions, yet it served to fuel their lust.

Clicking her tongue at how pitiful the tableau of her dependence on others served naught but embarrassment, the silver-haired matron left the comfortable confines of her room and stormed out with purpose. The sack of gold jingled merrily within her pockets, the standard courtesan attire gained the attention of a few passersby. At first, she thought it nothing but lustful gazes, at least, until a calloused hand plucked her easily from the streets and kidnapped her into a lonely alleyway cluttered with litter and debris alike.

A cool metallic object pressed against her throat, the sinister smile behind those decaying rows of once pearly whites widened. His hand pressed against the wall beside her pate, gesturing his dominance over her.

"Well, well, what do we have 'ere? A little sparrow wandered off from 'er cage, did she?" he started "Th' lil sparrow carries a hefty weight on her...".

Shiva figured the male desired to ravage her, but sought a greater prize. Wait...was she about to get mugged?

"Now, why dontcha be a good girl and hand over dat gold..." the sudden pressure against her neck was enough to break the skin and draw a dollop of crimson fluid.

"You can have it, just please let me go..."she uttered in a broken voice.

"Y'know...lil sparrows who run at such a pace can be considered outcasts. Ya might be useful in the...better care of another headmaster..." he ran the dominant hand over her shoulders, chest, and stroked her thighs through the fluff fabric.

"..I-I've no interest i-in this..." Shiva protested.

"Not like ya got any other choice, whore" his guttural chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. "So, how 'bout we start ye off right away. I'm sure wi' a body like yers, I'd be filthy rich in no-"

Warm crimson fluids and entrails splashed on her face, a surprised gasp to compliment her startled jump and cling desperately to the wall her back was flattened against. Fluttering her lids, a hand gripped her shoulder and uttered comforting words.

"It's alright, it's alright. You're alright, 'mother'," only one group of males called her as such.

Tears swelled in her eyes; she collapsed with hands concealing that helpless face as the male crouched down to reassure her safety.

"I can't defend myself from anything!" she cried, wiping off the taste of iron from her lips and face. "Even worse, I'm prone to these things - which I can't even get out of!" she confessed.

"S'alright...it's not entirely simple when ya live in an island which harbors nothing but criminals and pirates. It's not your fault...not everyone can be one or the other.." he peered at the lifeless body of the assaulter he ended.

Silence chimed in.

"...teach me.." her words surprised him "...teach me to be..like you...like all of you...".

Gangplank was apprised by Virshka, mentioning the disappearance of Shiva after the first night. Never mentioned where the matron stormed off to, a nod of acknowledgment was given before returning to his ship.

Today was the last day in Bilgewater for another undisclosed amount of time and he wished to bid Shiva a farewell and assure her safety and well-being under the brother's roof. Except, she had vanished once again. He had to admit, the woman had a skill for it.

Bothering not with formalities, the Captain couldn't help but wonder where the matron had ventured off to. He eyed various taverns, the most likelihood to a decent job, yet he recalled the mention of its harassment to female workers - which lured the matron to the brothel in the first place - so it was highly unlikely she resided in either of those walls. Tailor? He stopped just outside a hut of seamstresses pacing themselves to meet the quota for the day. Shiva wasn't with them. The same resulted in other professions the matron may take an interest in - not even the fishermen and vendors catered to women. Men were prominent in most professions consisting of strenuous labor, and it was rare to see a woman amongst them, albeit not impossible.

Ascending the plank leading to his ship, the Captain was surprised at the cohesion of his crew and one hale figure being the first to greet him.

The kerchief did well to maintain the fine-layered silver locks from obstructing the face, a small ponytail bound the longer strands - which probably reached to the shoulders. A blouse two sizes larger did well to conceal the torso and above, a satchel marked the end of the loose top and start of tattered ebony-hued trousers. Fitted boots were probably the only item to suit the figure he recognized too well. Even if the chest was bound, the verdant orbs and long lashes failed to hide the feminine gender of its owner.

It was Shiva.

"I wish to join your crew" she spoke a pitch lower than her usual.

"Why" the Captain inquired with instant reflex.

"I...enjoy the freedom it offers. No longer do I wish to abide by the subjugation of others - I wish to exercise my freedom as a pirate in the vast sea and lands. You require a cook to properly feed your crew, right?" Shiva spoke with confidence.

Impressed by her speech, the Captain managed to force himself to point out a flaw in her recruitment.

"We don't accept women on our crew." he uttered.

"No offense, Cap'n, but I believe I stated that I'm a pirate...and your new cook." a cocky smile formed on her lips.

"...is that so" the Captain closed the gap between them and stood at his full height. "Very well, cook, I hope you're able to feed these men their daily hearty meals and maintain their bellies full."

Shiva straightened her spine and gaze into his crimson hues with a determined glance. "I won't disappoint you nor the crew."

Gangplank clapped a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it firmly. "Welcome aboard, landlubber" his hand released her.

A cheer erupted from his men, mirth spreading from one to another.

"Hoist the sails, men! Time to earn your next paycheck with blood and iron!" the Captain barked his orders.

"Aye, Captain!".

Like fleas, the men flushed the deck to assume their positions.

Shiva had joined his crew as a pirate; he couldn't be as relieved and concerned - more of the former. After the incident at the brothel, the Captain grew concerned that his admonition may have been the cause of her disappearance. His chest had swollen in fear, but now he couldn't help but glance at Shiva's back and wonder in a whisper.

"...why".


	18. Cold Stew

Dinner was served and all but one attended - Gangplank. Celebrating Shiva's official recruitment to their crew, most found the tattered outfit quite tasteful...and it totally wasn't because they were biased. Nope, not at all ( insert sarcasm here ). None cared at the physical alterations of their 'mother' as long as her meals nourished and filled their empty bellies.

The handful of men who assisted Shiva played a key role to her acceptance; she'd been trained in sparring, the global rules pertaining to pirates, and rehearsed the laws of their ship. Yes, there were laws to abide by. Graduating by a hair's length, the crew offered to extend their services aboard the ship - in order to adjust properly. In their debt, the silver-haired pirate rose and bid them a polite farewell before sauntering to retrieve a bowl and fill it with tonight's stew. None inquired who it was for because they were certain it was for their Captain.

Light clicks from her boot echoed on their path up the stairs, dexterous hands balancing the rippling broth until reaching the apex of the staircase. Standing before the Captain's door, a rhythmic knock signaled her presence before a hoarse voice approved her entrance. Allowing herself into his domain, the matron nonchalantly waded to set the bowl at his desk and nod in acknowledment.

"Cap'n. Figured I'd take the liberty to deliver your meal," she uttered.

Paperwork always plagued his desk, organized only to his knowledge and reference. Should one add glasses to the rugged pirate, he'd almost resemble a scholar - a very hewn-clothed scholar. The thought mused her.

"The men had their meals already?" he inquired.

"On their seconds or thirds if possible" a soft chuckle escaped her lips.

The flickering dim light shadowed the subtle smile which stretched the corner of his lips. He was thankful for it. Even if a hand promptly jotted information unknown to Shiva, the other held the rim of the bowl as he dragged it over the surface of his wooden table.

"If you'd like to get started on seconds after that, I'll reserve whatever I can scrape from the pit of the pot," Shiva offered.

"That won't be necessary. This'll probably get cold by the time I reach half way," for a moment it almost felt like an attempt at humor.

"You should take a break and nourish yourself. Wouldn't wanna see a malnourished Captain commanding his crew" a playful jab was aimed.

Fear loomed over her, the abrupt silence forcing her to deal with overconfident words meant for comfortable company as opposed to uttering them to her superior. He didn't respond.

"...forgive me if I spoke out of line..." her verdant hues glanced over to search for his own.

There it was. There she was. Relief swept the Captain away, fearing his extremely vulnerable cook had transformed her core to match the outfit. Concerned not of the formalities nor anything in between, he had lost himself at the level of confidence she had gained and mixed it with her nurturing nature to concoct a newly flavored Shiva. The genuine concern for his health brought him mirth, but doubt wedged in at the once timid matron facing with the difficulties of even confronting him. Her apology only proved it to be a facade; an act to play the role of a pirate and not a woman without hindrance.

"We don't apologize to anyone...not even your Captain," words of advice "If you were to speak out of line for an ill cause - there wouldn't even be time for an apology. You'd find yourself in the afterlife before it all."

Relief and concerned washed over her simultaneously. She knew Gangplank held no mercy given his disposition, and she'd witnessed it enough times to never question it. The Captain had a malicious aura permeate whenever he spoke - it all boiled down to who he spoke to and the context of it. This wasn't one of those moments, but it still sent a shiver down her spine.

"I...understand" it was the honest truth.

"Do you?" he rose to a stand and approached her.

Out of instinct, she took a step back until facing him at his full height.

"Do you truly understand what it means to be a pirate" a statement more than a question.

In a logical sense, yes. Experience wise, nope.

"...I'll learn" the words escaped her lips without meaning to.

The confident aspect of her innate had flung back. He wasn't certain why it bothered him, it shouldn't, right? Did he force her into it involuntarily? Would Shiva entirely lose herself in the act of piracy and the events guiding her through blood and gore?

"If I asked you to serve your Captain?" his hand extended to coil his digits around her wrist and reeled her in.

Close enough to inhale the fading scent slowly being replaced with the aroma of his ship, he assumed the worst; her stapled fragrance to be a rarity to his nostrils. His crimson hues examined the verdant orbs now lost in thought.

Nothing could solve the puzzle constantly altering its pattern, the words triggering two immediate responses: alarm and a dollop of concern. Not for the question at hand, but the sudden release of his wrist once their frontals were a mere inch apart. The Captain desired consent. It wasn't easy to decipher at first, but the flickering light taking refuge behind his crimson pools had enlightened her.

"...I would" a whisper for his ears only.

Gangplank took another step closer, swallowing her smaller frame in his shadow until her cranium was forced to cant upward to face him. Easily, he may have felt the sudden acceleration of her heartbeat drum against his chest. The rise and fall of her chest was visible, along with the sudden rush of color to her cheeks as result to the beating breath of rum against her delicate features. His gravitational pull was intense, and even moreso as his tiers parted to reveal rows of pearly whites muttering something.

"Why..." his hand traversed to her hip, fingers dancing on the linen fabric.

Her own lips parted as if to seal them with his, the strangest temptation rising. For a moment, the warmth of their breaths exchanged, leaving her plush tiers desire to finally lock with his own - it never arrived.

"Why indeed..." the silver-haired pirate whispered before regaining control and withdrew from his grasp.

The Captain did not deny her the freedom, and Shiva sought to take advantage of it while adding distance between them.

"Enjoy your food, Cap'n," the last words to be uttered before Shiva left his chamber.

Oh, the irony. He'd bellow out a laugh if he could, but he figured she'd still be within range of hearing. Returning to his desk with a smug grin, he scooped the bowl into his palm and fed himself a spoonful. It was cold. How long were they dancing through their unmasking emotions? Long enough, he presumed.

Pacing down the staircase, turning a sharp left and sprint straight into her dorm, the matron pressed her back against the wall and gasped for air. Suffocating in the Captain's chambers had taken a toll, yet the bright flush on her cheeks misguided her. Her heart continued to beat wildly, threatening to create a cavity within her chest and flop out.

"...Gangplank..." his name alone eased her labored breath, taming the caged butterflies fluttering within the pit of her belly.

What the hell just happened?


	19. Your Three Words

Dawn arrived and Shiva had already occupied the clustered kitchen to begin preparation of breakfast with assistance. A designated potato peeler ensconced on a stool, practicing his dexterity and timing for each skin-peeled potato. He noticed improvement after every other potato, elevating his hopes in being significantly useful. Another rinsed the vegetables, scouring the dirt from the roots they were plucked from or other substances which may have latched onto it. The third was under the tutelage of Shiva, aided in skinning the meat of its excess fat and portioning it evenly when it's to be served.

The men volunteered to help, in their subconscious fearing a second plausible abandonment of their 'mother'. Comparing the food they happily consumed through seconds and even thirds, their pallets would forbid the bitter taste of the meals they once ate religiously. Strange that Shiva introduced them to this new religion of divine cooking, or at least, compared to the completely raw and undercooked meals their inured bellies digested on a daily basis.

Instructed step by step, timing and portioning were critical to stew the contents and enhance their flavors. Content with their work, the men prattled idly and inquired over other receipes from their 'mother'. Playful jabs were executed, light tugs on her stub of a ponytail and prods at the visible slits on her blouse. Smacking the back of their hands to hear them laugh in mirth. She joined them.

Breakfast had been announced and the crew congregated to indulge in their morning meal. Gangplank did not attend again. Once again, Shiva would serve a bowl and escort it to the Captain's chamber, the rhythmic knock alerting him of her presence. Flitting into the room, the matron found the rugged pirate attending to more paperwork. For a moment, her curiosity piqued at the contents, but settled on WHERE he stored it. Everything seemed to be layered on the desk alone, perhaps organized only to his knowledge.

"Is it really more important than food?" Shiva inquired out of curiosity.

The instances she'd witnessed Gangplank actually consume a proper meal were unseen. The Captain had refused her meals before, and yesterday was the only viable proof that he even fed himself. He was a hale male and surely his stomach could digest anything without qualms.

"Food is a luxury," he started "Although...it's always welcomed".

Parchments were brushed aside to fit the bowl in the open space. Gangplank noticed the lack of announcement for her withdrawal when noticing her back faced him.

"How are the men" he supped the broth before scooping up the meat to savor it.

Surceasing her steps, the silver-haired pirate vaguely turned to face him.

"Fine" a loft of her brow wondered if he was attempting to converse with her.

He grunted in approval "Have you learned to wield any weapon".

The abrupt change of topic startled her and successfully gained her attention with a full turn. Brows knitted, but eased not a moment later.

"No - why..." the question was rhetorical in itself.

Pirates were no exemption to the requirements of melee and basic weapon knowledge. Anything could be used as a weapon; bottles, shards of wood, scalpels, and anything capable of phasing their opponent long enough to counter-attack.

"I'll require that you have a cutlass with you at all times" he raised the bowl to slurp down the last of it before rising to a stand.

At his disposal, he plucked a sheathed blade from his side and meandered to her. The leather-bound blade was offered. Its weight was insignificant, but enough to cause imbalance of her center, forcing her to take a minute and readjust her momentum. The longated straps were coiled about her waist in a poor fashion, the matron struggling to adjust it properly. The belt was buckled to her left, leaving the cutlass to hang from the right hip; Gangplank disapproved of it and already reached to unfasten it.

"Hey!" she protested.

"If you're right-handed, the blade should rest on your left for a swift angled withdrawal" he spoke calmly. "Mounting it on your right gives your opponent the opportunity to strike without parry. So..." dexterous hands buckled the straps to her left hip and left the cutlass to dangle on the right. "You leave it as is."

Again, their frontals greeted while a mere finger apart, leaving both pirates to inhale each other's stagnant breath from poor oral care. Nostrils flared at the surprised tolerance for such hideous breath, but dared not to judge - for she practiced it without acknowledgement.

"Your parents never taught you self-defense? Especially when raised in Bilgewater?" he inquired in a husky tone.

Verdant hues grew somber as if recalling memories of pathos through her history. Gangplank was fluent in reading ones' countenance and spoke before allowing her to continue dwelling in the seed germinating after he planted it. Except, he was beaten to the punch.

"I know nothing of my parents since birth. A...friend of the family raised me but discarded me at the age of seventeen and merely taught me the basics, perhaps he thought I'd find someone who'd protect me - no need to learn self-defense if that were the case" her smile was forced.

"You worked with Marcus to support yourself. What did you do prior to it?" he pressed to coax further information from her.

"Slept wherever I could in the outdoors - not many inhabitants or wanderers in the rural wards of Bilgewater" she added. "Once Marcus hired me, I-" the words were replaced by a regurgitating sound.

Shiva's hands placed themselves on her midriff and mouth. A coughing fit ensued until another attempt to empty her belly caused her to hunch forward. Warmth trickled down her thigh, the nearest hand patted down until it transfered to her hand. Dubiously reeling the hand to face the palm upward, both parties lapsed as one was conscious of the situation.

The twinge swelling within her abdomen increased, the crimson fluid her hand had been tainted in resumed its progressive flow.

"...w-what..." unable to comprehend the situation, standing was proving to be difficult and required some accommodation.

Gangplank hooked an arm around her waist to maintain her standing. When - his palm pressed against her midriff, feeling the hardened flesh confirming his suspicion.

He had fertilized her and now her body was rejecting the bud of life from progressing.

"You're having a miscarriage..." the Captain spoke with a hint of dolorous with perceived genuinity.

Collecting the bundle of fabric from his cloak under her palm, the matron found it ironic to find support in the man responsible for this event. A firm squeeze to her hip corrobated the shared poignancy. The mettle pirate continued to support her - wave after wave - without uttering a word, only to settle the erstwhile mother-to-be on the couch.

Tears trickled down her cheeks, a sight the Captain was highly unfound of, yet tolerated it for her sake. For a moment, he meandered to the door to summon one of his men. He returned shortly with a bucket of water and a set of semi-clean clothes.

Her garments were stained and required to be removed. A hand lightly tugged at the sash pinning the top and bottom of her outfit. Seeking verbal approval, Shiva's figure merely sank into the couch and he took the opportunity to peel the sash from her. Both pieces loosened as if the correct thread was disentangled, giving him free range to hike the blouse and remove it. The bound chest was finely wrapped to flatten it and lessen her feminine attributes - that wasn't the cause of his widened orbs. Just under the ball of her shoulder, on her arm, the insignia of Bilgewater was wonderfully carved into her supple flesh, the receding skin gesturing the inking was only a few days old.

"Why..." he uttered as his fingers traced over the fine minutiae of the body art.

Interrupted from her reverie, Shiva felt the sudden coolness of the room mitigate by the touch of his hand. His crimson orbs continued to linger in the area of interest, the caressing hand awaiting a response to justify the tattoo.

"...I wanted to dedicate myself to the crew...to you..." the latter escaped her lips without meaning to.

The pirate wandered down to the waistline of her trousers and unbuckled them. Tugging them down, Gangplank revealed the drying blotches of crimson covering an expansive area of her nether region and below. He dragged the bucket to him, dipping the sponge floating on top to absorb the water. Squeezing the excess and leave it moist, he splayed the tainted thighs and dabbed the sponge to cleanse the skin. Bit by bit, the crimson color was cleansed and restored the porcelain-like to its natural hue.

He retrieved the garments and dressed her.

"...thank you" she whispered.

"It's...my fault...I'm sorry..." he returned the whisper.

For the first time, Shiva felt her cheeks heat up and utter words Gangplank thought he'd never hear.

"I forgive you...".


	20. The Pirates Cove

Both were inexperienced and retained their silence for a considerable amount of time. Gangplank would've been a father in the span of several months and Shiva would truly become a mother, but what drove them into their current state of silence? The what if? The how would? The perhaps? Neither.

The fact that they weren't given a choice.

What if Shiva birthed their offspring on board? Would they settle somewhere? How would he support his family? How would Shiva manage without him; he prioritized life as a pirate. Perhaps it was to their convenience to have the miscarriage? Perhaps not? Either way, their options were stripped from their grasp and forced to cope with it.

Would you have wanted to? Would you be ready? Gangplank desired to inquire these thoughts but given the circumstance, it would not matter.

"Are you alright?" a rhetorical question but the Captain sought the well-being of this woman; he always did since the beginning.

"Yes" the succinct response bestowed another session of silence.

Gangplank rose and felt the faintest tug to his sleeve; he turned to witness Shiva's hand responsible and turned to face her.

"You'll rest until we arrive at The Ratpies Cove - Three nights from now" he spoke.

"I cannot remain here for three whole nights without feeding the crew...they'll starve" her genuine concern was of no surprise.

"Shiva, we're pirates. Long before you arrived, we lived off of anything edible - or we forced it to be edible. If neither were obtainable, we starved. Simple. Never forget, simple does not mean easy" he grasped her wrist and firmly squeezed it. "Now rest, your health is surely more important to the crew than their spoiled appetite".

Even if Shiva wanted to protest, her body was incapable while in the process of recovering from the loss of blood and the strain her reproductive system had undergone. Freed from his grasp, the silver-haired pirate sprawled on the couch in defeat. The occasional whimper sounded from her but it would subside within hours. Napping may have been a benefactor at play, but the abrupt knock on the door roused the matron to a stand.

Gangplank voiced his acceptance from his seat, a pang of concern for her swelling in his chest. Easily feigning disinterest in her well-being once the male entered to inform him of their progress toward their destination, a nod of approval was given before dismissing the lad.

"I best prepare dinner" Shiva uttered after the door was sealed.

"Have I not-" he was not given the chance to finish.

"I'm a pirate, Cap'n. The needs of the crew are far more important than my own" with a subtle stumble, Shiva dimissived herself from his quarters.

He'd admit the admiration for her virtue, but silenty cursed for planting that seed.

Another joyous dinner filled with mirth and hearty laughs on all ends. Another meal the Captain failed to attend and forced their 'mother' to abandon them. Reentering the stuffy room at the expense of lacking ventilation, Shiva shut the door behind her and roved to set the bowl on his desk.

"I'm beginning to theorize you're doing this on purpose" Shiva proposed.

"A faulty theory but a good one nonetheless" he responded perfunctorily.

Her rebellion drew the curtains to a close and Shiva finally took the opportunity to rest. Slurps lulled the matron into a weary state, the palm resting on her midriff confirming the lingering pain, but figured it to be nothing more than an after-effect. Gangplank observed her from his peripheral. Even as the silver-haired pirate slumbered, the Captain ceased the stroking of his pen for any sign of distress.

Shiva roused on two occassions; breakfast and dinner. Both instances, Gangplank prattled over the crew's activities - that wasn't his intention; he wanted to learn what she concealed from him. As believable her tale may have convinced others, he figured it twisted from the truth. Prying from other ends, the Captain ceased the interrogations and merely ordered the woman to rest while under his care.

Three nights later, the entire crew rendezvoused to find their ship trod through jagged spirals of rock at a langurous pace. Thick fog strained their sight, Gangplank guiding the man at the wheel through the maze. Hearing the creaking cries of the ship barely grazing past a pillar of rock wrought panic, even if the entire crew was perfectly comfortable at the confined space.

Where exactly where they heading? Ratpies Cove, right?

Judging by how laxive the men were, it was a frequently visited place. But, where was this place located? Near Valoran? Ionia? Her guess was as good as nothing. The days spent resting in the Captain's Cabin only served to vaguely be aware of the time - they had no clocks to pronounce the exact time - so, reading the sundial was perforced.

In the distance, a dim orb of light pierced through the thickened fog, several flicking into view to reveal architectures grow in size and volume. The ship slowed and the flickering orbs revealed themselves as torches serving to guide ships towards a dock coming into view. Anchor had been dropped, losing the last drop of speed to fit perfectly beside the pier and disembark.

"Looks like we've arrived just on time, the others are already here" voiced Gangplank.

Wanting to question the reason for their arrival, the already gloomy atomsphere was enough to maintain her silence as the crew grouped until their Captain joined them. Few whispers were caught by her ear, but nothing to ease the pang in her chest - only fed it.

The mouth of a cave greeted them, the dancing flame of the torches casting malignant shadows on the moist rocks, presumably from the occasional lick of a wave. Only portions of the cave were visibly carved by man, the rest done by mother nature itself over the course of unknown years. Beyond the mouth it extended to a narrow tunnel with walls lined up with more torches guiding the crew through various chambers even the wind dared not pass through, sending chills through her core and quite visibly to anyone minding her any attention. They passed over an unsteady bridge - which felt as if it may collapse at any moment - and found it difficult not to gaze downward at the endless abyss. Another elongated path guided them further down into the heart of wherever they had ventured into. The stagnant stench of the sea permeated the massive cave the torches were generous enough to faintly light up - the sea may have been the endless abyss beneath them. Another shiver.

"Since this is our...cook's...first time here, I believe a proper introduction should be made" Gangplank spoke.

Quiet chuckles erupted from the group, one pushing Shiva forth to the archway with the macabre sight of a skull of a human rotting presumably from age, the crossbones identifying it as a gimmick of the Jolly Roger. Torches lit beside it cast a terrible shadow just above it, startling the matron for a moment before witnessing Gangplank step aside and reveal the swelling light just beyond it. Stepping forth, fear and curiosity were the perfect combination to guide her feet through and marvel at the sight before her.

Buildings! A multitude of them and an inundation to fill it up. It reminded her of Bilgewater's Marketplace. Their path would continue through a spiraled passage leading them downward into the underground city. Light was as prominent as the roiling sea water lapping up the man-made shore harboring small canopies and rowboats - certainly they had to steer through the endless abyss with guidance of a hoisted lantern to arrive here. Merchants bellowed their sales, a conveniently placed brothel/s and a handful of buildings with unknown purpose to her.

"...where are we?" Shiva finally queried.

"The Ratpies Cove" answered Gangplank truthfully.

"Why would anyone give it such an odd name..." muttered the silver-haired pirate.

"It's an anagram for...The Pirates Cove" his fixed grin found amusement in revealing its secret.


	21. The Cook

Descending into the subterranean city via a stone path smothered out due to years of wear, the crew added traffic to the already highly populated micro-city of The Ratpies Cove.

Fascinated by the foundation of this bustling city, no doubt it was also the property of Gangplank who strode proudly and languorously through streets. The perfunctory wave and greet was directed at the Captain, welcoming his return to the hideout and appraised him of the mundane or alarming instances it had faced recently. As the prominent black sheep of the group, Shiva mustered the courage to march through the crowd and feign recognition of what a large portion considered a surrogate home.

Beautiful courtesans belonging to the brothel beside them flocked to their group and even left their current patron to swoon Gangplank into joining them inside - or publicly perform - it wouldn't matter. For a brief second, a flame of jealousy washed over her, veering her gaze as her Captain ceased his trail to hook two of the women with each arm. Others joined to feign their distressed selves from the lack of companionship from Gangplank's men; they bought it to an extent. His crew had to be prioritized, after all.

One even approached Shiva, inquisitive over the new crew member. Instantly, the courtesan identified the matron as a femme and lofted a brow. The Captain had a female aboard his crew? Unheard of. As if unveiling a secret among meant to be kept as such, the enchanting street-walker meandered to another testosteron-filled man after severing eye contact with the silver-haired pirate. How odd.

Another fleeting moment and the Captain's presence was vacant once more. Dimissing the courtesans for a higher priority, the crew roved past the clotted streets and veered into a prominently distinguished building welcoming the Captain by opening the massive double-doors. No guidance was required. All but Shiva were knowledgeable of this building in particular and she'd soon find out. At the apex of the staircase, a congregation of equally rugged broad-shouldered men imbibed their rum as if awaiting their fifth member. The vacant seat must belong to Gangplank.

"About time ye've arrived" one complained.

"S'none of your business, Joshua" the Captain spoke in an underlying tone.

The man harrumphed and took a swig of his grog.

"Any other wish to voice their concern? Drop 'em in the suggestion box" Shiva could've sworn Gangplank had a sense of humor begging to be unchained.

The round table barely fitting the grown men creaked under their weight and the bottles of rum it supported. It had seen better days, but for the mundane tasks it served, they opt to let time take its toll before replacing it. No embellishments were in sight aside another elongated table and battered chairs at their wit's end. Other crew members resided within the expansive room, presumably belonging to the men occupying the round table. They were Captains of other prestigious ships.

Captain Joshua, Captain Logan, Captain Sanz and Captain Reid.

"Straight 'ta business" announced Captain Logan.

Joshua had the thinnest build compared to the leering men he sat with, his clean shaven face accenting the youth he harnessed as opposed to the others. The rum he nursed on hadn't taken its toll through age as opposed to his fellow Captains. Logan, an imposing figure plausibly rivaling Gangplank, his broad chest and shoulders at the peak of masculinity, and a jagged scar running from his brow to the corner of his lip served as nightmare fuel. Captain Stanz appeared to be the modest of the group, but those dim lit azure pools frequently carved every fine detail of his perceived target - an excellent interrogator. Reid, an arrogant ex-merchant with high ambitions, his tightly knitted brows were enough to be affront - his men feared him and were often subjected to harsh punishments for raising a finger against him.

"In case ye aren't aware of the rising epidemic caused by that vile bounty hunter, our supplies in Biligu and other sites have been compromised and we've been forced to relocate our distributions to reduce the hindrance" apprised Stanz.

"Why haven't you killed her off, Gangplank" Joshua's forward statement earned him a disinterested glance from Gangplank.

"If it were so simple, I'd have done it years ago, lad" he grasped his mug of grog and took a swig.

"Yet, you'd rather waste away at brothels and drink yourself into a-" Logan interjected.

"We're not here to prattle over one's personal business. Our supplies are being compromised and if allowed, it would germinate to myriad lengths. This needs to be resolved, now." added Logan. "Bilgewater continues to be our safehouse, but even it may be at risk."

"Miss Fortune is also reducing our numbers through sheer force. We've word of third-parties; mercenaries lending capable hands to her cause" stated Reid.

"You're supposed to be patrolling the northern region...surely you haven't been granting passage to conspicuous ships" impinged Joshua.

"You're one for talk, you're the reason we've lost one of the harbors for derelicting it!" Reid recriminated.

Lost in the sea of dispute among the Captains, the other crews were visibly indisposed. Hushed whispers of arrogance spread like flames through their own group, boasting over the lack of effects applied to them. Apparently, this whole ordeal was taking a toll on the crews. Wages would be reduced, and Gangplank's crew was unaffected by it.

A missive was delivered by one of the designated guards and handed to Stanz. Perusing over the parchment, a flicker of malign aflamed behind his azure orbs and immediately addressed the group.

"You've recruited a woman to your vessel" uttered Stanz in a matter-of-fact tone.

The room fell silent, and even the other crews expressed their piqued interest when leaning forward from where they sat or stood. Gangplank sat still, exchanging glances with his peers before waving his hand perfunctorily.

"Not a woman. Our cook" his statement succinct.

All but Gangplank had a smug rictus tug the corners of their lips, examining his crew for a distinct face.

"You, silver-haired swab, step forth" called Reid to Shiva.

Hesitantly, Shiva obliged and stood before the table with piercing eyes gazing upon easy prey.

"I'll admit, the wench has such a slappable face. I may be inclined to see it bob around my cock. What do you say, sweetheart?" Joshua made a mockery of the woman.

"Ya don't seem to be the cheap rascal, Gangplank. Lessen the whore's work and nab a real pirate ta cook fer ya" advocated Ried.

Gangplank wanted nothing but to maim the two Captains chastening the silver-haired pirate, but his retort would only serve to corroborate their justification that Shiva was not a pirate and merely a female passenger on his ship. He knew the missive was responsible and an unknown source was conspiring against him, aiding the other Captains in exploiting a plausible weakness in him. Too long he's played their childish games, and the Captain had perfected his usage of cards.

"Say what you must. You'd not find a finer cook who gained the respect of an entire crew in a matter of weeks - I assure you." Gangplank eased into his creaking seat.

The barely audible sounds of approval from the crew reinforced his declaration, wiping the slate clean of grins from the other Captains. Exchanging glances as if conversing in a secret language, Gangplank meant to interject but had been encouraged to trod down another path.

"What's a cook if she can't fight? Hardly a pirate if she can't defend her Captain" bellowed Logan.

"The cook's role is to feed the Captain and crew." Gangplank spoke formally.

"And to defend the Captain when necessary" added Stanz. "Isa, step forward".

Readjusting in the uncomfortable chair, Gangplank's chest swelled with a pang. He vageuely recalled the name and already his crimson orbs scanned through the other crews to find the single shadowed figure step forward and present itself.

"Captain" a sharp voice acknowledged its Captain.

In the light, the crusted ebony-hewn-haired of a mature woman with a sluggish posture addressed Captain Stanz, safe to presume she belonged to his crew. Any trace of femininity had been removed through time and experience at sea with a vast group of men to pound away any shred of fragility scavenged. The warrior-made pirate had a collection of prominent scars and weathered skin from the over-exposure to the sun. This was a pirate. Shiva depicted a noble woman in her current proclivity.

"I'd like to introduce you to my cook. May be responsible for a breakout or two of the stomach flu, but nonetheless is a fine addition to the crew. Certainly, even a blind Bilgerat can tell the difference between a whore and a pirate. You know what happens to women aboard any of our ships..." Stanz spoke with a underlying hint of a threat.

"I'll admit it takes an idiot to assume any of my men belong to these flock of whores you're so besotted with" Gangplank uttered, taking another swig of his bitter-tasting grog.

"Though, I'll give her accolades for the cutlass dangling at her hip. Can she use it? How about a friendly spar between them? Surely you wouldn't be opposed to the idea...or are you going to continue protecting her..." his tone grew grim.

Gangplank's greatest fear was unraveling before him and he was completely powerless. He'd only need to express his vehement of the situation and diffuse it, but if the other four persisted that Shiva was merely a woman - he'd be forced to deal with their views through mutiny. He'd be ousted.

He faced a dire crisis; choose to save Shiva from this hell hole he placed her in or follow through Stanz' request.

"I'm capable of the basics" answered Shiva.

"Shiva, no..." Gangplank urged himself to utter but couldn't manage to recover to from the shock of her acceptance.

"So she has a voice after all" smiled Stanz maliciously "It's settled. The friendly spar shall start here and now".

The other Captains rearranged the room eagerly, barking their orders to form a human wall for their miniscule arena meant to host Shiva and Isa's spar. Concerned whispers were uttered among Gangplank's crew, his deft ears catching the winds of doubt regarding the silver-haired pirate's skill with the cutlass - or any weapon for that matter. Had anyone taught her to wield anything aside a cutting knife?

Isa stood ten paces from Shiva, standing at her full height - just a few inches beneath the matron. Snorting excess mucus from the depths of her gullet, the gunk was spat on the floor as Isa withdrew her cutlass from its sheathe hanging on her left hip. Shiva mirrored the action, but the slight stumble from the additional weight earned her a hushed wave of laughter from the other crews. Stanz accidentally released a sound of amusement.

"Not accustomed to the weight?" his seemingly genuine concern was nothing but a facade for his mockery.

No, Shiva wasn't accustomed to the shifting weight of the blade and handle. Expertly handling her weapon as an extension of herself, Isa lunged forward and with a flick of her wrist disarmed Shiva. The blade skid across the floor only a few feet away. The crowd expressed their disappointment through unsatisfied groans and clicks of their tongues.

"Surely the whore wasn't ready. Why don't we give it another round, shall we?" suggested Stanz as the other Captains and crew members cast their vote in favor for a rematch.

"Go an' get yer sword, 'ove" Isa strained her voice to sound sweet.

Shiva obliged and retrieved her blade, but as soon as she turned to face Isa, the rusted sheen of the blade blurred to her right and a sudden twinge forced Shiva to wince and raise a hand to her cheek. Upon lowering it, a leaking line of crimson trickled down her palm. A cut on the cheek.

"'am sorry, 'ove, a reckon ye should improve yer fetching time. Surely ye don't gargle on cocks that slow, eh?" Isa's comment coaxed laughter from the others.

Contemplating in intervening the 'friendly' spar at play, Gangplank knew better - even if his hand itched to retrieve his pistol and splatter the brains of the pirate inflicting wounds on the inexperienced silver-haired matron. He swore to take vengeance should the situation grow dire.

"Ain't seen many fights, 'ove? Aunty Isa will cure 'at" she spoke before lunging forward again.

This time, Shiva parried by chance, and it seemed to irk Isa to deny her another chance to maim her. Tch. As if a fuse malfunctioned, Isa harried the poor matron relentlessly, finally basking in the gratification of successfully inflicting cuts on Shiva. Blinded by fueled manifested anger, Isa failed to notice the swift curved slash catching her cheek and surceasing her Shiva's actions from earlier to stare at the blotch of sanguine smeared against the back of her hand, the pirate physically lunged at the matron and tackled her down, pinning her at the waist before pummeling down the helpless woman.

"You fucking cut my face!" bellowed Isa out of rage.

Patches of lesions were visible after a few moments, splatters of crimson following shortly after. It wasn't until Isa was content with the macabre canvas she created out of Shiva's face that she rose to a stand to retrieve her cutlass with laborious pants. Rolling onto her side to spit out the collected pool of blood from her mouth, the matron reached for her cutlass until she heard the distinct boots of Isa clicking back over.

"I'll teach you to touch my face and get away with-" Isa raised the blade over her head, swinging downward but felt a centered sharp pain on her chest.

Glancing below, her amber hues followed the trickling rivulets of crimson flow down the length of Shiva's blade. Shaky hands served to rattle the lodged blade directly through Isa's heart, forcing the madwoman to fall onto her knees and send herself into a state of shock. Releasing the hilt of the cutlass, an unseen weight seemed to push the pirate on her back and desperately fill her lungs with air - only to fall lifelessly not a moment later.

Silence.

A voice lifted the curtain with gritting teeth. "You...YOU" the amount of rage swelling within Stanz burst forth as he unsheathed his blade and stormed toward the matron struggling to sit.

Managing to turn and face the new tribute for the 'friendly' spar, a silent gasp escaped her lips while attempting to retreat into the safety of anyone or anything willing to shelter her from harm. As the blade striked downward, it clashed against another metal - another blade. Fearing the impending death, the matron shut her eyes but reopened them when death had failed to claim her. Verdant hues widened at the sight before her.

Gangplank stood proudly as her shield, his own flaming cutlass threatening to sear through Stanz' blade. The other Captain retreated hesitantly and eyed Shiva with malicious intent.

"She owes me a cook...!" he growled audibly.

"Your cook was responsible for her own life during this 'friendly' spar you propositioned...our cook is not liable for your loss" Gangplank uttered with a hint of rage "Unless you wish to come to other terms...".

The flaming cutless visibly seared the edge of Stanz' blade and forced him to retreat completely. All the other crew members shifted uneasily, whether they peered behind Gangplank's blazing crimson orbs or witnessed the physical manifestation of the Saltwater Scourge's inner demon. Either way, none desired to be in the same room as he.

"There are no women in my crew. Only the finest hand-picked pirates" Gangplank declared to the others.

Left to their silence, Gangplank and his men aided Shiva in guiding her downstairs before leaving her in their Captain's care. He'd have it no other way.

Escorting her to a villa under his reign, the man spared no expense at furnishing the embellished home with the finest of everything. Rare breeds of flowers, tapestry capable of feeding an entire family for several months, original paintings ( presumably stolen ) hung artfully on the walls, etc. Minding the finer aspects of the glorious villa, a cry for a "Hannah" reverberated until fast-paced clicks of heels reciprocated the call. This Hannah was apparently the caretaker. Drifting from her conscious, a hazy image of an ebony-skinned female came into view until the Captain whispered orders before both parties panicked at the matron suddenly falling unconscious.

Two days had passed before Shiva roused from sleep with a groan. Inhaling sharply while rising to a seated position, a wince escaped her lips when finally feeling the cuts of the flesh heal under the bandages which were changed daily. To no surprise, Gangplank slumbered on a chair beside the bed, bottles of rum resting on the nightstand, probably imbibing while worrying over her recovery.

"...Gangplank" she whispered.

The whisper must've been amplified through his ears to rouse the Captain from his sleep. Startled by his rise to stand beside her, a brightened florid of her cheeks greeted him.

"...are you alright..." he whispered as if fearing another presence hearing him utter words of genuine sympathy to a living being.

"Aye..." Shiva replied with a soft voice.

The bruises were prominent but no longer swelled, and the cuts were healing quite nicely. Overall, Shiva was in perfect health. Dressed in a simple gown, the bedhair gave her a comical appearance as opposed to a victim of physical abuse. Already she removed the blanket and slid to the edge of the bed in attempts to stand. Gangplank stopped her with a single hand.

"You should take this opportunity to rest..." he suggested.

"I'm perfectly fine...I'm not even sure how long I've been asleep. We should return to the crew - surely they're worried about-" Gangplank interjected.

"Not as concerned as I am for you" his voice rose without intending it to.

Shiva gazed at the Captain with wide eyes, stunned by his confession.

"...please. Rest. Let it be another day you're out of harm's way because of me..." his other hand cupped the free shoulder. "...I implore you to reconsider...".

The Captain leaned forward as if intending to kneel but could not.

"Cap'n..." was all she could whisper.

That warming sensation returned, boiling her blood to heighten the production of heat. Just as their foreheads touched, Shiva fluttered her lids to a shut, allowing his weight to push her back onto the bed and land with a silent thud. His breath reeked of grog but she couldn't complain, her own breath probably reeked of worse.

"...one night" Shiva whispered as her lips lingered dangerously close to his own.

Surprised by her declaration, his hands traversed down her arm to greet her hands and interlace them with his own. He squeezed them affectionately, now elevating them to pin them above her head without an ounce of protest. That warmth spiked as the rise and fall of her chest grew profound - not just with hers - but his own as well. Shiva inhaled and he exhaled, breathing on each other as the faintest of her scent reached his nostrils and sent him into a trance.

"I need more than that...much...longer than...that..." their lips grazed as he found it difficult to hold himself up.

"...so...do...I..." the final whisper before Shiva canted her cranium upward and seal their lips in a passionate and hot kiss.

Gangplank permitted himself to melt onto her, careful to not crush the smalle woman under his weight. His squeezed firmly, expressing the excess emotion his lips couldn't fill. Unless her ears betrayed her, Shiva could've sworn she heard him groan in pleasure, as if living in a fantasy he'd been dreaming for so long. They uttered each other's names through the corners of their lips, refusing to break the seal of their kiss as the matron returned the pleasurable groan.

"Shiva...".

"Gangplank...".


	22. Kiss the Cook

**WARNING: AN ENTIRE DETAILED SEX ( Love-making ) SCENE! SKIP TO THE BOTTOM AND SPARE YOUR VIRGIN EYES ( You pervs. Ya'll know you were waiting for this. )**

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Gangplank's kisses grew feverish, the need to fill his lungs with air becoming of second importance as he continued to coax those lovely sounds of pleasure from the silver-haired matron. Lost in the fit of passion only available in scarce dreams, the Captain didn't notice Shiva's knees bend to lock his hips in place. Another shiver coursed through him, his free hand traversing down to hike up the wrinkling hem of the dress to the hip. He felt her body shudder in response but did not protest in the slightest. Only her whimpers fueled the urge to progress, the diligent maneuvering of his hand grazing over her supple skin of her midriff and hips, stroking it like a brush on a canvas.

The dress continued to fold upward, exposing inch by inch of skin until he was forced to peel it from her frame entirely. Tossing the gown aside, his lips abandoned the comfort of hers, paving a path with feather-like kisses down the length of her neck as the occasional gasp caused a brief pause out of fear of harming her. He was cognizant of her complete inexperience aside that horrible instance and strove to repaint that event by planting a new seed of utter pleasure. She deserved it.

He discovered how sensitive her neck was, easily a trigger zone should the right combination of his oral muscle and lips earn him a cry of elation. Lingering for only a moment, his pilgrimage had not been completed as he dragged down to her collarbone, nipping at the slanted bone before his chin felt the skin swell down south. Nestled at the apex of her chest, the finely carved rift was explored through affectionate kisses before veering sharply to the left and find a lovely pink peak standing at attention. Breathing warm air on the twitching nub, the sudden latch of his lips coaxed the first moan from Shiva, her mellifluous warbles encouraged him to suction in the peak and its surrounding flesh. The mound stretched outward - into his mouth - every time his cheek caved in, returning it to its perfect globe shape once the cheek filled in.

Soon, he detached with a moist 'pop', hovering to its twin and mirror his affection and avoid being remiss of it. Resuming his path down the rift of her chest, the flattened vale of her midriff was greeted, basked with affection until his lowering pate could not longer bound her wrists. The fear of being rejected in his advancement throbbed in his cranium. Delicately, he released her bound wrists, relocating them on her hip before witnessing all but his head disappear between her splayed thighs.

Clamping his teeth on the obstructing fabric concealing her honeypot, the other hand was generous enough to peel it and toss it atop her gown. His lips carved another trail on her inner thighs, placing them on his shoulders for her comfort as the heated breath from his nostrils gradually moved to her core. Another cry of heightened pleasure pierced his eardrums, the tip of his wet muscle prodding the bundle of nerves hidden at the apex of her honeypot. It took great restraint to not lash an assault on the nub, but he reminded himself that the woman was no courtesan or experienced woman who required excessive stimulation to provide satisfactory pleasure. No, Shiva must be treated like the delicate flower she is. Easily enough, both his hands firmly gripped the small of her waist to ease the constant rise and buck of her hips in response to his proficient tongue; he found pleasure in witnessing the matron writhe in ecstasy.

Tracing incoherent circles on the skirt of her hooded nub, the pair of feminine hands pressing the pads of their fingers on his scalp dared him to dive down and mimic his skilled tongue at the entrance of her honeypot. This may have been the only instance the balding pirate was thankful over the lack of graying hair - this way, he could enjoy the matron's hands express their plea for more.

Once the trickle of glistening nectar flowed freely from her core, the pirate rose to a stand and undressed. The heavy coat landed with a light thud, followed by the linen blouse, sash, and trousers and boots. Standing in all his naked glory, Shiva couldn't help but marvel at the acquired battle scars over the years - some fading and others too defined to ever subside. He was the epitome of masculinity - even for his age.

The Captain climbed into bed, dragging the matron to the center of the bed where he buried his waist between her thighs and rested his forearms beside her cranium. His mast massaged itself between her velvet folds, coating himself in her natural lubricant for the impending plunge into her depths. Her arms raised to coil loosely around his neck, locking her verdant hues with his own and lose herself in those crimson orbs reflecting nothing but absolute idyllicness.

He brushed rogue strands of silver from her face, using the same hand to cup her cheek and press his forehead against hers. At last, the bulbous tip of his mast aligned itself at her entrance but he did not move. Her folds felt it pulse vigorously, yet waited patiently as if awaiting for a command.

It dawned upon her.

"Go ahead..." she uttered.

The words of his dreams caused his lids to shut at half-mast, his hands entwining with her own and offer a loving squeeze.

"I trust you..." Shiva had barely finished her line before her lips failed to close as they stretched to fill his ears with a delightful moan.

Gangplank froze in position, afraid to release in the single thrust urging him to achieve that blissful euphoria. The manner her thighs squeezed his waist, those walls threatening to choke his mast, and those pleading verdant hues were capable of coaxing his first climax, yet he stood his ground. Sealing their lips for a passionate kiss, his hips ensued a steady pumping pace - giving the matron plenty of time to adjust to his size.

Desperate to maintain his languorous pace, the Captain teased himself with random bursts of speed to hear Shiva's cries ascend before returning from their high.

"Forgive me for this.." he whispered into her ear.

Relocating his hands to her hips - the pace gradually accelerated - to vigorously clash their hips. Collecting a bundle of sheets within her palm, the silver-haired pirate tugged on it for consolation, her mounds flailing in a counter-clockwise rotation and locks of silver smacked against her forehead wildly. His relentless assault proved meritable in triggering an orgasm from the matron when he failed to notice the increasing production of her nectar splashing against his thighs.

Various positions were assumed as he modeled her to his desire, the addiction to sap the very essence through their love-making session encouraging him to continue weakening her. At one point, the matron was nothing but a ragged doll, her velvet folds puffed with a bright crimson taint from the abuse it was accustomed to. By the time his release peaked, the pirate lodged himself and plugged Shiva's womb like a cork. The underside of his mast pumped its virile seed directly into the plausibly fertile womb.

Collapsing behind her with labored breaths, both basked in the afterglow of their session as Gangplank coiled his arms around the famished Shiva and held her as close as possible.

"Don't ever leave my side..." he whispered hotly.

"...I won't..." she returned the weakened whisper.

He caressed her shoulder, stroking the length of it until he heard the weary woman's breath ease and lull herself to slumber. He planted tender kisses along her neck and shoulder, unable to separate from her; this is what he wanted. Even as he witnessed her slumbering form, the Captain tugged a blanket over them to keep her warm. Lacing their hands together, he tilted her cranium before stealing another kiss only her lips could sate.

"...you belong to me...".

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Editor's note: So, the story will be coming to an end soon - maybe within the next 10 chapters! Depending on what contents I could work with, I may be inclined to write a sequel!

Extra: **THANK YOU ALL FOR SUPPORTING THIS FANFIC. DON'T FORGET TO WRITE A REVIEW SO I KNOW I'M STILL DOING 'K! IT REALLY HELPS!**


	23. Unexpected

Forgive the lack of updates! Been lacking the muse as of late and I apologize! I may not post frequently but I'll do my best to finish up the fanfic!

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The heavens shied at the performance between the two pirates, the smaller frame crying out a chorus of harmonic warbles serving to encourage the Captain to strengthen his endeavors. Toes curled, mouth gaping, and arms locked about his neck, the silver-haired matron unleashed a torrent of nectar which brought the peak of elation to both parties.

Never had Shiva experienced the optimum sense of an orgasm, the sheer ecstacy sent wave of pulsing pleasure through every fiber of her essence. It was completely addicting. Gangplank may have uttered words concerning the vice-like grip her walls confined him to, her lewd expression triggering that long awaited climax to be injected straight into her womb.

Recalling nothing afterward, the femme pirate had exhausted all of her energy and passed out. Fluttering her lids open, a familiar warmth encased her slumbering figure - Gangplank. The countenance of the pirate was blury but already his rugged hand caressed her soft cheek. Her own pressed against the back of his, the man pressed her frame closer to his and flattened their foreheads. He nuzzled her before brushing a rogue strand of her silver lock away.

Fearing that the pirate would vanish by morning, she was pleasantly relieved to find him maintaining her in an embrace and expressing affection wish simple gestures.

"Good morning, Shiva..." he whispered.

"Good morning, Gangplank" she whispered in return.

"It's John" her eyes widened at this revelation.

Pausing as if waiting for the intended jest behind the statement, a fleeting moment passed before considering it truth. But why would Gangplank - no, John Gangplank- never reveal his first name? Certainly everyone held a first and last name; she certainly did.

"...was your father's name also Gangplank?" assuming he revealed her such an obscure truth, the woman figured he'd answer any question she dare ask.

"No, I cannot recall it...not even my mother's" he confessed. "What of yours?".

The tables had turned against her, she never figured to continue taking without giving.

"...Sethir" the answer held a hint of pain.

"No mother?" the lack of another name made him assume this plausible fact.

Shiva shook her cranium. "Never met her. Father raised me".

The familiar silence dawned upon them, but Gangplank held more concern for Shiva's apparent dourness when mentioning her father.

"Following in father's footsteps as the only heir to the throne. Knowing no other lifestyle ever since the brain was capable of understanding coherent sentences. The only assurance to continue living depended all on the success of dethroning the tyrant and all those who'd dare stand in the way" he elaborated.

Like a deer struck by headlights, those verdant hues flickered with past memories triggered by the complete truth of his statement. Both seemed to have shared the aspect of being raised by tyrant fathers with a desire to be exterminated by their progeny.

"I'm a horrible man, Shiva. I killed both of my parents single-handedly to earn the title of Reaver King" his grip loosened as if anticipating the departure of his mate.

In turn, the matron lightly clung onto his arm and tucked back into his hold.

"What choice did you have" she paused "I'm sorry you had to go through it alone...".

Words of sentiment were new and stirred an emotion long forgotten. He tugged the woman close, embracing her and threatening to never release her.

"How did you ever learn to love without ever receiving it..." he brushed the tip of his nose against hers.

"Through caring of others' need over my own. Friends often expressed their concern and I simply returned returned it...in the end - my misfortune serves to understand others and give them the benefit of the doubt. Everyone deserves happiness..." a soft smile formed on her lips.

"Then I deserve you" his husky voice groaned out before grasping a bundle of her hair and pulled her into a rough kiss.

Muffling the response, their wet muscles danced with passion, their hearts pounding in mirth and desire. The Captain mounted the femme pirate for another round of love-making.

Three days since the pirates had gone missing from the public eye. Emerging from the villa, both opted to return to the neglected crew and resume their endless voyage into the sea. He instructed Shiva in rendezvousing at the peak of the dirt path overlooking the city while he rallied the free-ranged crew; she obediently obliged.

Admiring the view until the Captain arrived, time felt short for the newfound feelings she harbored for her Captain as her porcelain-like sheets burned when recalling both specials nights with him. Breaking the spell of the reverie which captivated her attention at the arrival of Gangplank and his men, the matron was greeted and teased subtly by the sudden disappearance of their Captain and 'mother'. It was difficult not to fluster over playful accusations, and ever more so now when acquiring Gangplank's initial name. John.

Luckily, the men had their bellies fed and primal urges sated these past few days and happily returned to service their ship without a single complaint.

Shiva prepared the morning meal and often frequented the deck to offer her services. The Captain minded little attention while encasing himself in the Captain's Cabin and it worried the matron that their experience was intentionally temporary.

Over the next several days, little conversation between the two happened, only summoning her for trivial questioning and bringing up his portion of the evening meal when he couldn't show. At first, she thought he'd invite her to stay with him but clearly that wasn't his intentions. Even then she looked forward to their idle prattling in hopes of sparking something more - something meaningful. Would it be selfish to force a conversation over their past activity? Did they ever come to terms over their status? Were they dating or was it truly a fling, or something else entirely? All questions were unanswered one night when returning to her room.

"Was it just a dream, then?" she inquired to no one.

There was a knock on the door before allowing itself in. Shutting the door behind him, Gangplank sat beside the started matron and exhaled anxiously.

"I...managed to finish early and opted to spend time with you.." the uncertain tone caught her attention.

"Thought I was-" Gangplank interjected.

"My priorities lay with the ship and its crew. You're my second" he paused "Nothing nor no one shall come between us...you must understand this. There isn't much I can say or do to prove that you weren't just another woman I slept with for pleasure but I hope through the time we've spent together...know you're my only one."

Gangplank has his priorities to concern himself with but never did it deter him from worrying over Shiva's feelings. He noticed. The times she used any trivial bit of information to coax a conversation with him; she stopped after multiple attempts and he felt guilty over prioritizing his work over the woman he cared so deeply for. He feared losing her.

Reaching for his hand, Shiva cupped it and pressed it against her chest.

"I didn't mean to doubt you...this is still new to me...I don't even know what we are..." she whispered.

Cupping her cheek, he pulled her close and hovered his lips over her own.

"You are mine and I am yours" he whispered before pressing in a deep kiss.

That night, he spent the night sating his cravings. By dawn, the Captain returned to his quarters and left Shiva to the responsibilities on her part; feeding the crew.

Joining the laughter and merriment the crew always radiated, the pirate concerned herself not with the lack of attendance of their Captain, she didn't need to anymore. Confident that her lover signed heaps of paperwork and required minimal distractions, she figured her presence was welcomed but not encouraged to be a nuissance - so she'd like to think. Surprised over the bright smile her porcelain-like features reflected, the diligent hands carried a hearty portion of today's breakfast up to the Captain's Cabin.

Entering with the usual knock to alert him of her presence, the silver-haired matron used her back to push forth the door and hold it while nimbly flittering in.

"Cap'n, I brought you-" jade pools shot wide open while losing momentum and dropped both plates.

They did not shatter upon impact. They hadn't completed the fall as they remained frozen in time, bits of the stew lapping at the air only to cease its function. The Captain, too, had been frozen as a male used the flat end of the table to support his reclined figure. Blond hair and cerulean hues pierced her own, a dour countenance formed as if expressing displeasure in whatever would spill from his lips. Rigged sleeveless navy collared top and the matching colored trousers held up by a series of belts criss-crossed over his hips. Leather boots to finish him off before he cast a soft smile.

"It's been too long, Shiva..." the hushed male uttered.


	24. The Price of Love

"...I thought I'd never see you again...Klaud" whispered Shiva.

"Surely you don't expect me to believe it, do you?" the blond queried.

"Why are you here..." Shiva knew the male rarely announced himself without reason.

"Nice to see you too" he reached to pluck a piece of parchment from Gangplank's desk to peruse over. "It's not even breached past the medieval ages. Though, it's always been your favorite era."

"You're not one for prattle. Why are you here, Klaud" Shiva demanded.

Hurling the item away, the male sauntered languidly before her.

"An event is to transpire soon. A significant event." he waved a hand perfunctorily.

Shiva decrypted the information and snarled in protest.

"What does it have to do with me...you're aware we're not allowed to intervene in historical events regarding other worlds" she uttered.

Klaud shook his cranium and rolled his broad shoulders into a shrug.

"Not you but..." he extended a finger to gesture at Gangplank. "Him."

Death? Ultimate demise? An achievement? Infinite possibilities. The fact that Klaud failed to mention the details hinted to a larger picture.

"Why do you tell me this, hmm?" the dubious matron asked.

For this segment, he retained silence and averted his gaze.

"I want you to return to us..." he uttered.

"Why" she promptly demanded.

"You've only one choice and I do not desire such a path for you..." his brows furrowed in anguish.

Contemplating the tone and direness of the situation yet to unfold, Shiva chewed on her bottom lip anxiously. It was rare to see him plea whole-heartedly. What could possibly involve Gangplank to an event where Klaud wished to pluck her from existence? It ailed her.

"Shiva...I implore you to return. Leave this world and avoid this..." he firmly grasped her shoulders. "Please...".

A small thud with liquids splashing rung in their ears, followed by clicking sound. In a swift, sweeping motion, the male flung Shiva to the couch before tattered raiments flung from his chest. A gunshot.

"Looks like time is up" coughed Klaud as he stumbled forth.

"The hell is going on!" exclaimed an irked Captain.

"Gangplank, wait!" pleaded Shiva while clambering out of the couch to stand beside the blond.

"Who the hell is he?!" the once frozen pirate maneuvered from his seat to stare at the male still standing.

"He's my friend!" implored Shiva.

Klaud hackled another cough and deadpanned at the silver-haired matron.

"Really...a friend. You're telling me after five-hundred years I'm just a friend...I'm offended" he groaned.

"This isn't the time to jest!" she frowned and stepped to plant her hands on Gangplank's chest. "He means no harm, he was just-" the Captain interjected.

"Five-hundred years...?" Gangplank was baffled. "Why isn't he dead...".

The cavity in the male's chest was apparent, even as he turned to face them. The bullet was squeezed out and the flesh bubbled as if healing itself.

"He's a demon, an underdeveloped human weapon has no real effect on him" she explained.

Knowing of demons, celestials and other misc races within Runeterra was common facts. The Institute harbored fouler creatures than this one. Except, Gangplank's attention steered toward a number of years this duo were 'friends' for.

"You haven't told him, have you" Klaud stared.

"I was gonna get to it!" the matron frowned.

An odd concoction of jealousy, fear, and betrayal roused within Gangplank. This stranger held a superior connection to Shiva than his own, his ability to easily gain her attention and coax such animated expressions only served to fuel his jealousy. Fear of the unknown. Shiva never revealed her age to him or, at least, her true age and background history. To be 'friends' with someone for five-hundred years and never mention this male ignited the furnace of betrayal. He had all the reasons to be angered at her right now.

"Who are you..." growled Gangplank "Or better yet, 'what' are you...".

For the first time, Shiva felt a bolt of genuine fear force her hands from his chest. Raw anger flickered behind Gangplank's sanguine orbs, directed at her as if she'd committed a crime rivaling his life time's worth of work. She stepped back and Klaud gently pushed her aside.

"It's not her fault, she doesn't-" Shiva interjected.

"No...I'm in this situation because of it. I'll tell him..." she spoke softly.

Shiva fumbled with her hands, Gangplank's piercing gaze showing no mercy - even if it was the only person he cared for. His heart weighed heavy and for the first time - it ached. He wanted a genuine explanation for her deceitfulness and would not settle for anything less. The only woman he -dares he say ever loved?- trusts end up becoming another wench after his hard-earned fame and gold, but he'd have to credit her for being such a perfect actress. So much, she managed to stir emotions he thought long forgotten. His hands felt cold; he missed her touch already.

"I'm a multi-dimensional traveler. My name is Shiva Armetige and I'm five-hundred and ninety-eight years old. My world's name is Esthper and I was exiled from it at the age of eighteen...for failing to obey my father in pursuing the path of a tyrant. My mother was killed upon giving me birth as to avoid distractions during my training growing up. Father had used her simply to spawn a progeny...and I was to be his successor in conquering our world; I did...for a short time. Causing a genocide after several years, I had enough...father figured me worthless and exiled me to another world filled with refugees of our world." noting Gangplank was unmoved by this speech, she continued with lowered hues. "I had no reason to live...my only purpose in life was to become a tyrant and I did not wish to become one after my father discarded me. I sought atonement. For decades, I traveled the multiverse, explored foreign regions and made companions along the way. Klaud was my first and my last. Centuries after the spark of adventure was gone...I wished to settle down...I wanted to have a normal life...I wanted to experience whatever made everyone so happy!".

Tears swelled at the corner of her eyes, but that endearing smile of hers did what it did best - make the Captain fall madly in love with her. It was growing impossibly difficult to uphold that glare.

"It was hard. Humans live such short lives and it's harder when they wish to use you for their personal benefit...so ambitious. Men were more interested in extending their lives and riches than about me. I wanted what they had...so bad...and I never did, not until now. Meeting everyone here has been the best experience I've had..I don't wish for it to stop...but there is an event I cannot partake in and...I'm afraid..." the tears rolled down her cheek.

"We are not allowed to meddle in the affairs of the world not our own. Severe punishment is bestowed and we are given two choices: Be erased out of existence or...become mortal inhabitants of that world." Klaud uttered the latter with a bitter tone.

"You hate me for lying to you. I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to keep it from you. All I ever wanted to do was make you happy because...I love you. As long as you're happy, I'm happy, but now..." the urge to cry intensified.

Gangplank was once a seasoned pirate with a steeled resolve and would've beheaded the woman without hesitation, but...this wasn't just any woman. Nothing as pure and fragile as this. He didn't deserve her. For the woman crying before him - preaching her love to him - after centuries of rejection, abandonment, and loneliness; she wanted HIM to be happy. The most selfless woman would shed the veil of immortality at a chance for a normal life - with him.

His glare melted into sorrow as he approached Shiva, his arms encased her in the greatest embrace they've shared.

"You make me happy..." he tightened his hold on her. "Please stay...I love you...".

The pirate was earnest in his proclamation of love. Never did he expect for a woman to claim his heart and he'd be damned if he ever let her go. Shiva's arms hooked under his arms to return the affection. Love was in full bloom and both refused to separate for even a split second.

"Safe to assume you've decided to reside here, mm?" spoke Klaud.

"Yes..." whispered Shiva.

A parchment was eased onto the table -provided with a pen- for Shiva's use. The consternation of his countenance revealed all to Shiva. Their adventures through the multiverse ended here. Forever. Not only this but Shiva was now prone to death at any given moment - if not from old age. Imagining the demon masked his emotions to an extent such as Gangplank would, a moment of silence was granted before plucking the pen and dubiously signing the parchment. Klaud collected it and turned to face her. Nothing was uttered as he stared at her in pure agony; the loss of a dearest friend was difficult for anyone. One may think he'd be entitled to visit but surely the Captain casting a demonic glare wouldn't approve of a stranger intruding on their personal lives through their newfound relationship. In turn, he felt a pair of arms coil about him and lock him in an embrace. He returned the affection succinctly before peeling away - that irked pirate was giving him the stink eye.

"Take care of yourself." he cast a soft smile.

"You too..." she uttered.

"Take care, big guy" Klaud flicked a wave to Gangplank before vanishing into a cloud of smoke.

Immediately the matron's knees weakened until stumbling forward before catching the table for support. Catching herself panting laboriously, a sudden wave of vulnerability washed over her. Gangplank retreated to her side and examined his love with concern.

"What's wrong..." he searched for visible maims or marks. Nothing concluded.

"It's gone..." she whispered as her breath eased "All of the excess essence is gone...".

Gangplank couldn't comprehend, yet imagined its whatever granted her immortality, or a variable of it. He never witnessed any of her feats and knew nothing of her capabilities. Either way, he comforted her with soothing strokes down her back.

"I'll protect you...as I have" he uttered in reassurance.

His words meant everything to her, a warm smile brightening her face as he pressed his forehead against her own. Love had finally blossomed between them and both cherished it. Entwining his fingers with her own, a firm squeeze secured their position as he dipped his cranium until their lips met and sealed up with a passionate kiss.

* * *

 **Editor's Note:** So, this happened! Don't worry, I'll still delve a little more into Shiva's history over the course of the last chapters of the story! It's not entirely complex...I hope. Klaud shall also play a part in unveiling her history, so stay tuned!

 **IMPORTANT:** I shall begin the segment of Burning Tides in the following to end chapters ( At least my version of it...err...Ganplank's version? ). As mentioned before, the story may end by Chapter 30! Stick around and hear a special announcement and shoutout to all you devoted followers/reviewers by then!


	25. Burden Lifted

I'm alive-ish! With a juicy, new chapter!

* * *

Shiva spent the night in the comfort of the Captain's cabin with Gangplank observing her slumbering form from his seat throughout the night. Gangplank had mixed feelings. Never would he have thought that a woman like this would have conquered his heart - or any woman. He was cognizant that as long as she was by his side, he held the minimal interest in anyone else and he was happy. Falling into a stupor after a league of imbibing rum was a temporary idyllic, yet his time voyaging through the sea fared better at swelling his soul with mirth. Questions plagued his mind, as to last night's event and the pieces of information Shiva had kept from him, but for now all he cared about - is his beloved's well-being and recovery. Finally obliging to his famished body's request for rest, the Captain's lids shut and went into a slumber.

The following morning was the first experience as a mortal being. The after effects overwhelmed the matron as she roused from slumber, slowly moving to the edge of the bed to plant her feet on the floor. Gangplank slept on his chair but she couldn't help but smile at the sight of the man she made this sacrifice for. Not an ounce of regret coursed through her conscious; she knew she'd finally find happiness with him.

The routine was responsible for his rousal, a guttural grunt vibrated from the depths of his throat but opted to join his beloved by embracing her daintily - fearing he may break her like a glass cup.

"How are you?" he uttered in a susurration.

"I'm fine, love..." she exchanged with a whisper of her own.

Elevating a palm to caress his tuft of honey brown beard with gentle strokes, her pate eased in to nuzzle and close any gap between them. Arms hooked under his own, planting her palms against his shoulder blades to inhale that prominent sea salt from his coat.

"If there's anything you need, all you need is ask." commented the concerned pirate.

"All I need is you..." her palm clutched at his coat, wrinkling the fabric beneath with an affectionate tug.

Corny. Gangplank couldn't help but stifle a simper and stroked the length of her back ever so delicately.

"We're a day and a half from Bilgewater. Once there, we can seek proper care for you," he spoke as-a-matter-of-fact.

"Don't worry about me, Cap'n. I'm as healthy as a horse," she spoke with confidence.

To strengthen her proclamation, she'd rise to a stand and almost immediately collapses out of sheer exhaustion. Shiva had fallen from a high - to become the average Jane. Strength, agility, and dexterity had once surged through her in abundance but all of it had been sapped and rendered null. Her body had to reprogram to adjust to this downgrade, leaving Shiva vulnerable to even fatigue. Quick to capture his beloved in an embrace, he'd ensure Shiva took advantage of garnering as much rest as possible.

"Rest. My presence is required through the day but I'll make rounds for your sake," he suggested.

"Mm, thank you" she nodded and complied.

Easing her gently onto the couch, a blanket was draped over her form to shield her from the windy elements and preserve her heat. Gangplank grunted in approval but his thoughts lingered as he was reminded that even after the events of last night, she was still the woman he fell in love with. But was he still the same man? He is still the ruthless Reaver King and last night, he felt emotions that he didn't think he had. Or at least had none to make him cognizant of them and now, he has Shiva - that some would consider a weakness to be exploited. His face contorted at the ill thought plaguing his mind. The pirate dismissed the thought; Shiva was safe in his domain and at the hands of his crew. So long as she remained within arm's length, he had no reason to trouble his thoughts. The crew required his presence and hoped it was enough to gear his train of thought to first priority; his ship.

Every few hours, Gangplank checked on the slumbering Shiva, finding nothing worth disrupting her peaceful nap. Acknowledging the absence of their cook - for obvious reasons - the crew concluded in sharing the task of preparing today's meals. Two bowls were delivered to the Captain's Cabin - potato soup. Oh boy. Gangplank took humor in Shiva's forced smile; his wasn't any better. Claiming a spot beside his love, both indulged in the bitter soup the men had stewed from good will. Supping the soup while dubiously chewing the undercooked potatoes, Shiva veered her gaze toward the troubled pirate. At first, it was almost unfathomable to read the male's countenance without straining her sight for the most insignificant wrinkle but it was true, the pirate's sanguine hues had lost their light.

"Is everything alright, Cap'n?" queried Shiva.

Immediately, he sifted to confront the concerned matron as if he'd been awaiting to be questioned. He couldn't hide such an insignificant emotion from her. He felt completely vulnerable in her presence - like an open book - meant to be perused with piqued interest.

"Did you ever love Klaud?" the question surprised Shiva.

Her hesitation didn't sit well; especially how the corners of her lip tugged into a smile. Like a flick of a switch, he reverted to his stolid mien and his muscles tightened. A knot on his chest strained his breathing at the thought of another male having a share of his happiness - even prior to their meeting. Of course, the practical logic - that Shiva was pure - during their first encounter should've mollified any qualms but it wouldn't mitigate the twinge swelling in his chest should Shiva be the one to hold such feelings for the other male.

"Klaud is like a brother to me," she replied softly. "We've traveled for centuries and he was my first companion. He protected me during my youthful times - I was under his tutelage until recently. He never mentioned longing to settle down and grew...distant once I began to search for such a life. I missed him but I figured he grew distant for a reason and never questioned it; he never questioned me".

There was that heart-melting smile again. He felt jealous for the wrong reasons. How close had Klaud and Shiva been? Did they ever sleep in the same bed? How did he learn to make her smile whenever he wished? Had he ever seen her nude? He clicked his tongue at the thought of any man who so much as stared at her differently. Shiva spoke of him so highly and that coaxed a grunt from him.

"You didn't answer the question." her first set of words should've been sufficient but he required a solid response.

"That would be a 'no', Cap'n." she cast a meek smile.

Planting a hand on his lap, his jealousy was almost palpable; she found it endearing, in a way.

"Were you ever in any danger to begin with? You mentioned substantial prowess..." guilt plagued his thoughts.

"No. I could've fled the scene if I truly desired it but...I figured it to be a coward's way out. If I chose to pursue a life here, I should face all consequences without regretting them." she emphasized 'all'.

That meant that if Shiva chose to flee from her pursuer from the start - they would've never met. Even after he forced her into labor and subjected her to the harsh living conditions of the ship, it was because she accepted it. His stomach dropped when he realized...she allowed him to force himself upon her. His greatest burden.

"I'm happy I met you..." said Shiva leaning forward to rest her cheek on his shoulder. "Nothing will change that."

His hand moved to cup her cheek, bending to press his forehead against hers and ease her onto her back. He caressed her cheek affectionately, greeting her lips with his own as he exhaled - like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Feeling a surge of lust stir his loins, the pirate urged himself to resist and enjoy this moment of bonding. Their empty bowls stacked under the couch as they adjusted to lay on their sides - facing each other. Losing themselves in the moment, their thoughts wandered to more hopeful wishful thinking until they'd lose themselves to the realm of dreams.

As the sunrise signaled a new day, Gangplank and Shiva were pleased to know that they'd be arriving at Bilgewater in a matter of a scant hour. Shiva had recovered significantly overnight; she spent the morning sauntering around the ship getting some fresh air, greeting her family and answering their inquiries about her whereabouts these past 2 days. An alibi had to be produced to minimize drama regarding their 'mother's origins. She returned to the confines of the kitchen to help start breakfast - just to get back into the groove of things. Gangplank was pleased to see the cheerful, lighthearted girl was coming back to full form. Refraining from commenting over last night's potato soup, Shiva stifled a simper while attending to their morning's porridge. They'd be arriving at the harbor soon and the men would spend no time to flock the restaurants and brothels at the drop of the hat.

After a hearty meal, their Captain and Shiva gazed at the view of the harbor swelling with each passing moment. The pleasant sea breeze danced with her silver tresses and for a moment, Gangplank found pleasure in admiring the sight over returning to his birth home. How could he help it? Just as the mirth filled him, it left and replaced itself with - what he could only describe as - fear.

Bilgewater was notorious for its wily inhabitants and was certain a considerable amount of ambitious pirates would strive at a chance to exploit his only weakness. Heavens forbid one laid a filthy hand upon her. Then again, he was the Reaver King and all knew the consequences of provoking their tyrant. He grinned to himself at the thought. No, Shiva was his and his alone.

Docking at the port, the men dispersed like rats to populate every bar and brothel as routine. The couple was last to disembark, a firm hook of her arm secured her descent to the boardwalk.

"I've some work to deal with but I'll escort you to a safe location until then." he uttered as he sauntered off with her in tow.

"I do not mean to hinder your work. You can gesture where this location is and I'll be on my way, Cap'n" spoke Shiva.

He chuckled softly as if finding her defiance humorous. He did.

"Last I recall, you swore an oath to your Captain. My word is absolute" to emphasize the hint of jest behind his words, he squeezed her arm affectionately.

Shiva's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, lowering her pate in defeat as they continued to walk deeper into the city. As expected, inquisitive glances from residents and passersby were directed at them. Only muffled susurrations reached his ear but minded them no attention. Let them spread the word that their King had claimed a woman and openly courted proudly. Even then, the ghostly shroud of fear was present and reminded him of the plausible dangers Shiva may face - should anyone grow bold enough to target her - and completely bypass Gangplank. In the waking presence of Bilgewatians, their tyrant escorted his dame to the tavern Shiva once worked in.

Residential drunks were scattered about and the Captain merely wended over them to secure a seat for them. Marcus flashed before them and greeted them with obeisance. Delighted to see her former employer, Shiva greeted him with a warming smile; he had always been good to her. Hastily bowing in return, Marcus offered his services immediately.

"What can I get for you, Cap'n?" he asked in an almost pitched tone.

"The usual" he paused "And would it kill ya to fetch me some rum" he ordered.

"Aye, sir." Marcus turned in the general direction of the kitchen "RUM FOR THE CAPTAIN!" he shouted before turning his attention to Shiva. "For you, miss?".

Marcus had always addressed her by her name but, apparently, Gangplank's presence hindered him from doing so.

"Chef's special, please." she added her order.

In addition, Shiva offered a meek smile in hopes of mitigating his change of attitude towards her.

"How have you been, Marcus?" queried Shiva.

"Good, thank you for asking" his response was rushed before he scurried off to retrieve the orders.

Throughout the tavern, Gangplank noticed the environment wasn't fit for any decent woman to work in. Drunks littered the place and its dim lights only assisted in deepening their slumber. Little noise was created but this wasn't a social landmark, only a refuge for the depressed and suspicious activity one shouldn't engage on in broad daylight. The perfect hideout for criminals and drunks alike. It was a natural fortress under the ownership of Gangplank himself. He owned the law enforcers and government, so none would dare set foot on his grounds - everyone knew. Only rivals would dare step the boundaries but were, more than often, punished for their defiance. He couldn't help but fathom how Shiva ever managed to live a decent life by working here.

"How did you ever work in a backwater place such as this?" he couldn't help but sate his curiosity.

Any other Bilgewatian woman; he would've understood but this was no strong, independent woman of Bilgewater - this was Shiva.

"Same as I did with your crew. Gained their respect through hard work, so it wasn't so bad," she smiled warmly.

At last, their food arrived. Steaming steak with potatoes and pork chops to fill their bellies. Idly prattle happened between them but mainly chewed their meals in silence. Gangplank imbibed the rum more than consuming his meal but it mattered little to him. The Captain reeked of rum and her lithe frame could do little to cease his feverish kisses assaulting her neck and exposed flesh. He owned the tavern and he owned her; he'll do as he pleases and nothing would stop him from taking his woman in front of everyone. Not as if most were conscious to even peek. On the verge of bending her over the very table, their empty plates rested, the door flung open as a handful of his men barged in with shock evident on their faces.

Yes, that'll stop him.

"Out with it" he groaned in disappointment to the interruption but knew his crew had a reason for the intrusion.

Their hesitation only justified his assumption.

"We've been lookin' fer ya everywhere, Cap'n...shits going down...".

* * *

Editor's note: THE END IS NEAR! Next chapter will be the beginning of my intake of Burning Tides! PREPARE TO BE BOARDED!


	26. Burning Tides pt1

Word had spread faster than anticipated and in a fashion, Gangplank feared. By sundown, all of Bilgewater would know of the silver-haired woman they bothered not to name. One of the Jagged Hook members were overheard by Gangplank's personal men regarding a devious plan to swipe Shiva from under his nose and would demand a very generous donation for her safety. His own hired men were turning on him moments after his arrival - all for extra profit.

Shiva was no longer safe in his own territory unless he escorted her every minute with a hooked arm on her small waist. The Captain had to be steps ahead in formulating a plan to ensure his love's safety. For that, he had to set an example of what it meant to cross the tyrant of Bilgewater - even a single ill thought regarding his love would be a punishable offense. Isolating her from the discussion - even if she were the Captain's lover - weighed on him; he feared for her safety. Now, the Captain had to give Shiva an escort to lead her off the island. A pang in his chest warned him that this ordeal wouldn't be solved with an insignificant threat; his weakness is being exploited and only one person in the entirety of Bilgewater could succeed if their minds were set on it.

Miss Fortune.

"You'll need to leave the island. Drek will escort you to my personal hideout - it's best if you're not here at the moment" he uttered to Shiva with a firm tone.

Before her thoughts composed the protest building up at the tip of her tongue, her small hands rolled into tiny fists and her verdant hues searched for his own, hoping to persuade him otherwise. His first mistake was to gaze into those mesmerizing jade pools and his second mistake was to hesitate in cutting her off first.

"I want to stay!" as if she had a choice.

"It's not safe and I can't risk your safety over your faulty desire to stay" he retorted. "Now, go. I'll be there when all this is settled" he kept his doubts vaguely.

The chance that the Captain may not return - at all - was plausible, more than he wished to give credit for. Death plagued him every day and this mini event would be no different; he refused to add onto the weight already on her shoulder. Shiva accepted his pirate life and the risks which it involved. All she wanted to do was ensure she remained by his side, regardless of the danger; she loves him, why would she want to risk herself for his sake? Gangplank was no different, he preferred Shiva not be involved in this ordeal to keep her safe. Both wanted to protect and be there for each other but Gangplank prioritized his selfish needs over her own.

"Drek, take her. Ray, bring me the betrayer, he needs to be dealt with" he bellowed his orders.

At once, Drek seized Shiva's arm and ushered her away but now without a few acts of defiance. For the first time, since they've been an item, Gangplank turned his back on his lover and marched off with his men. Tears swelled at the corner of her eyes but her pleas would not reach the Captain. What could she do for him anyway? As a vulnerable mortal, her chances of survival was no higher than the average citizen and Gangplank would only be burdened by her presence. She was cognizant of this but her heart's job was to defy logic in every aspect. Drek sauntered through an unknown route, presumably a hidden path - from the heart of Bilgewater - to the docks.

Fishermen stared in their general direction, along with a few lurking Red Caps. None would dare instigate their boss's personal crew in their rightful territory. Their piercing gaze was enough to sear a hole straight through her back and only then did Gangplank's logical theory take root. Her escort kept her at arm's length, hooking an arm protectively over his 'mother' as their boots cluck on the wooden surface of the boardwalk. In the distance, an inconspicuous dinghy rocked idly on the lapping waves crashing against the bank.

"This way" he promptly stated.

Matching his pace, out of fear of the other thugs, Shiva obediently followed. He climbed into the dinghy first, then extended a hand to help her in. Grounding her feet to secure her position on the rear seat, Drek sat adjacent to her and collected the oars before rowing at a steady pace. Regret invaded her thoughts, that longing desire for the Captain swelling within her chest and the scent of the sea was only a teasing reminder.

"...what's going to happen, Drek..." she needed a form of comfort. Any form of comfort.

His silence only weighed down her shoulders further. Did rowing require that much concentration? He was sea-born, rowing a boat was second-nature to him. He was hiding something from her. What did they tell Gangplank? Was this measure necessary?

"Please, tell me..." she pleaded.

Desperate for answers, her visage peered into the deep abyss of the sea, shadows of marine life darting beneath as if hoping misfortune upon the passengers of the vessel for a quick meal. Swimming wasn't an option.

Their voyage felt like an eternity but, in reality, lasted no longer than an hour. In the horizon, an island came into view. Northeast of Bilgewater, the dwarfed island was a sanctuary to ex-residents of Bilgewater seeking a better life. Verdant life was prominent and the quality of air was significantly refreshing. A natural breeze redirected the pungent scent of the Slaughter Docks from Bilgewater. The population was scant but thrived congruously, making it the idyllic place to settle down in. Gangplank may have had other intentions but found it convenient due to its close proximity to Bilgewater. Drek did not steer toward the pier and veered their vessel around the rear.

To no surprise, a smaller, more personal bank with a post was seen moments after. Expertly docking their dinghy to tie it to the post, both debarked and Drek followed an invisible trail leading up through the steep hill. This path was man-made and only assumed it was by GP's men. Her lingering concern of GP affected her languid pace - Drek patiently awaited for her to finish her ascension to the apex of the hill. Enabling herself to clamber up the last yards, her escort wasted no time and continued down another unmarked path - in the distance, a two-story house swelled in size with each passing step.

Disenchanted from the Captain for a succinct moment, to marvel at the copious land - although fallow - left the matron speechless before Drek justified her assumption by unlocking the creaking front door. Sauntering languidly into the humble abode, another wave of dubiousness swept her into a spiral of depression. The Captain's stench was prominent and his signature rum caked the floor and anywhere she peered around.

"There's a man named Richard in town, he'll supply you with whatever you need. The town folk may not take kindly to you...they avoid this area completely but don't worry, no harm shall come to you here. This may be the one place Gangplank has no control over. They respect Gangplank for who he is since he keeps their land safe but that's the extent of it. Take care, mother..." he left her the key and departed without another word.

Alone again. Turning to face the cluttered home, her lithe footsteps echoed as she explored the interior - it was a mess; a project, even. The ground floor consisted of a kitchen - including all the equipment and necessities - with generous space to move without obstruction. Definitely not touching the questionable sheen over certain areas. The living room was ample and was a proud occupant to the enterprise-sized sectional couch, dusty bookshelf, coffee table and tattered curtains. Down the hall, a trashed bathroom was located beside the walk-in closet. Gangplank was a practical man and probably bought the home 'as is' and left it as such. Least the bathroom had a massive tub - even if it was littered with empty bottles of rum. The walk-in closet could be considered a mini-bedroom! To the second floor.

More bottles. One of the steps creaked loudly, startling Shiva as if fearing her weight may result in breaking it in. Luckily, it was merely due to age and it had only strengthened over time. An identical bathroom in the middle of the hallway, for the three rooms to share. At least, it's what she thought before entering the master bedroom - it had a bathroom of its own. The master bedroom was easily the size of the living room and the custom-sized bed was wide enough to fit a family of four, comfortably. Exploring the other rooms, they lacked proper furnishing and required a myriad of TLC - the entire house did. Daring to open one of the - surprisingly intact - windows, Shiva was forced to use the weight of her body and nearly topple over once a loud creak echoed and the ball of her shoulder suddenly grew sore. Ow.

So, this was her new home. It felt...empty. Her heart. Clutching her chest, Shiva fell to her knees and leaned forward to sob. Gangplank was the tyrant of Bilgewater and even then, something in her heart spoke of something beyond protecting her. Who did Gangplank fear so much? Who could've made the Reaver King cast off his love from his personal protection?

"...please come home soon..." she muffled through her sobbing.

* * *

One of the members from the Jagged Hook had been delivered to Gangplank's ship, strapped down until all but his pate was immobile and his left leg was splayed to reveal bone. In one diligent hand, a carving knife and the other dabbed the oozing blood to control its flow. He wanted his victim alive and his ear-piercing screams were the only form of evidence that he was conscious. Various instances, the traitor-to-be fell unconscious from the amount of pain but Gangplank's men gladly snapped him awake each and every single time. Scrimshaw, a form of art which may soon cease to exist from lack of practice.

This is what it meant to betray their Reaver King. To even think of betrayal, one would be subjected to unfathomable punishment and this Jagged Hook member would be a testament.

"If you so much as think of her, I'll use your other leg as an extended canvas, y'hear?" he didn't expect the writhing man to nod but he did. Frantically and in between screams.

One insignificant man wasn't enough to spread the word of what would occur, should others rise; he couldn't scrimshaw them all simultaneously. Nor would he have the patience to round them all up and stuff them into a cell like caged animals. He clicked his tongue.

A knock on his door snapped him from his reverie, one of his men escorting a boy into his quarters and disrupting his delicate work.

"Speak, boy. I'm sure the Captain will take an interest in what you have to offer" said the man clad in 'beauty marks' across his face.

It wasn't unheard of for an orphan or delinquent child to haul in information to their benefit. Gangplank didn't discriminate against age; he welcomed them. Would the child inform him of another band of his men plotting against him? Even worse, against Shiva? He retained his composure and airily continued his work on the bleeding canvas before him.

The dubious boy opened his mouth to speak but words were jammed in his gullet. Gangplank's presence alone was terrifying, even under neutral terms; he didn't wish to know - or be the one on the table.

"I saw a man..." he started but saw that Gangplank didn't even feign interest "By the docks...trying to play invisible but I saw him...playing with a set of cards and they glowed...like magic".

"Where" a succinct response alerted the boy that the Captain had his interest piqued.

"The warehouse near the sheds" his voice squeaked.

Gangplank needed no description as to who was attempting to purloin his treasures. Though, a sinister rictus tugged at the corner of his lip and bellowed out a booming laughter. Perfect. This was all too perfect. If Twisted Fate was ransacking his warehouse...Graves wasn't far behind. What better way than to illustrate his message of betrayal than to capture the ever-quarreling duo publicly?

"Fetch the men...we have work to do...".


	27. Burning Tides pt2

Graves and Twisted Fate proved to be elusive for their captors while nonchalantly playing their neverending game of 'cat and mouse', dancing in a tango along Butcher's Bridge like a quarreling couple trying to pin each other and 'talk things out' - at least, Graves wanted to - in a sense. It was a grand spectacle for the Jagged Hooks and Red Caps, witnessing Bilgewater's finest card master desperately disappear from its outlaw. Nothing good ever lasts and as the two were so oblivious to their surroundings, they failed to notice how they'd fallen into the man circle of Gangplank's men. Men forcefully peeled them from each other, declaring them captors but Graves was too riled to shut his mouth until one of the men made it spew his own blood.

The outlaw's desire to crush his ex-partner numbed the pain as he mercilessly accused him for betrayal. TF, the 'docile' of the two was smart enough to keep his mouth shut but it only fueled the ire of Graves. Their tragic history ran deep, more evident in Malcolm as he continued to try and free himself to lunge at TF. His dreams were quelled the moment the ring of gang members parted to reveal their tyrant of a leader, Gangplank.

"You two bicker like a pair of newlyweds after a honeymoon gone wrong" quipped the Captain, gaining their attention.

Even the notorious duo bit their tongues to avoid spewing a retort. Gangplank wasn't known for his mercy and the crime they had commited in his grounds would surely not go unpunished.

"Bring them to my ship".

Those words alone were enough to send a wave of fear through them, even moreso as the men chuckled while dragging them off. Men weren't invited into his ship unless it involved one of three reasons; recruit, interrogate, or business. Both knew which of the three they'd face.

Front row seats in the Captain's Cabin would've been an honor if their arms weren't bound and beaten to a tender pulp as Gangplank overwatched with feigned interest. Malcolm refused to kneel before the tyrant but his partner was easy to kneel when the odds were against him; he was the smart one. Daring to insult his beater's mother and proclaim his punches were nothing but love taps, he succeeded in spiking the wroth of the male until one solid punch to his jaw left him with fewer teeth. Gangplank had enough, knowing the male wouldn't submit even if his life was at stake, his only interest being in his partner, wanting revenge for imprisoning him all those years ago.

"Waste of talent. You could've been working for me if you were smart but we're past that. You two will hang" spoke the Captain.

"If yer gunna kill us, make sure to git 'im first" Graves pointed his bleeding chin to TF.

Twisted Fate retained his silence, a mild sense of defeat palpable as he faked a smile.

As promised, the duo were escorted from the Captain's Cabin to the loading docks of the ship with a familiar sight awaiting them. The execution went public and a massive crowd had gathered to spectate the event. It was a duo event - Gangplank was bidding farewell to his cannon, Death's Daughter. Little did they know they'd be tied to their fate, literally. Bound tightly, the Captain failed to notice the discreet plotting between the duo during the ceremony, a chance for them to escape right under his nose.

"Bilgewater, I present to you two...volunteers. They're here because they've lost their way, like lost lamb straying from the flock, thinking that their independence would gain them the freedom to do as they please. All would've been forgiven if only...they hadn't turned on the herder" his voice was laced with venom.

Gangplank cared not about the object Twisted Fate had acquired from his loot but of what the message he'd send to other potential thiefs. More importantly, the secret core of Bilgewater residents who opposed him and would take advantage of his public affair with the maiden of silver hair. It was only a matter of time before they'd learn of her name, if they already hadn't and the challenge to keep her safe would begin, never ending until either she or he drew their last breaths. The thought renewed his purpose to eliminate two who may intervene in his goal for...happiness.

"They'll demonstrate what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you" his purposeful steps carried him to the mast of the ship.

Withdrawing his cutlass to a height all could see, the blade swung to sever the rope tied to the cannon and his 'volunteers'.

"You'll thank me for this one day" his last words to them.

The mountain of rope began to recede after one of his men pushed the cannon overboard, feeding it to the sea as Graves and Twisted Fate would soon meet their end at the bottom of the sea. Considering his task completed, he allowed a victorious rictus to spread on his features, openly expressing his satisfaction over the turn of events. Nothing would stop that rope from finishing its voyage into the sea, Malcolm and TF with it.

Hearing Graves' body hit the deck and skid to the edge, the lack of an extra body hitting the floor concerned him; Twisted Fate was no longer bound with his ex-partner. Instinctively, he swiftly turned around to meet TF preparing an assault but it wasn't the first time someone attempted at his life from behind. Natural reflexes geared in and his cutlass swung for a vital point; his throat. Age was evident at how the Card Master danced around him effortlessly, parrying every swing but dared not return the strike, Gangplank gave him no opportunity through his harrying blows. One final strike missed, leaving TF to dive for the last inch of rope before following his partner overboard, the last he'd see of him for a while.

If he'd learned anything from experience, the gambler always had a copious amount of luck and most likely would survive. The Captain would need to verify their floating bodies.

"Search the water! Don't come back without their bodies...or what's left of them" he marched into his quarters to disappear from sight.

He grit his teeth while storming to his desk to retrieve his pistol, locking and loading it for instant use. One of the cabinets was opened to reveal a scintillating jewel. It may have been the twinkle in his eye or the reflection from a bar of sunlight illuminating it through a crack on the wall. Instantly, his heart skipped a beat, plucking the small ring - too small for any of his fingers - and holding it in his palm carefully, afraid to drop and break it, not that it would shatter easily.

The ring was for Shiva. An engagement ring as a physical embodiment of his love for her. He meant to give her the emerald ring the other day, prior to the revelation of Bilgewatian residents already plotting his demise by attacking what he loved most - Shiva. Nothing could shine brighter than her verdant hues in any situation, the ring paled in comparison but he simply desired to claim her as her own, before anyone had a chance to catch her eye. Yes, the pirate was possessive of his things, her being a treasure on its own pedestal he sacrificed more than any prize in Runeterra. How he missed her so.

An explosion was heard just outside of his cabin, frantic cries in a cocophany that couldn't be ignored. He rushed outside to witness what he feared most - a direct assault to his prized ship. Caught up in the act of executing Graves and Twisted Fate, he openly invited anyone to witness a moment of vulnerability to assault. Never did he fathom one would go through with the process, especially when a mass of bystanders were present. Of course, a pirate's life was full of sacrifices in order to achieve one's goal. What was a couple hundred people for the chance to eliminate Bilgewater's tyrant?

Cannons rained from the sky, turning his ship into swiss cheese with every fleeting moment as his orders were never reached; he didn't know who was attacking him. There, a ship in the distant. He recognized the ship; it belonged to Miss Fortune. One cannon tore a hole just scant inches from where he stood but the radius of the explosion sent him plunging into the heart of his ship, along with a few of his crew members who frantically tried to escape the throes of death. Many had died instantaneously, drowned, or were eaten alive by the deadly creatures which dominated the sea. The murky water turned into a sea of blood and corpses, peppered with the remains of his crew as his ship was quickly sinking in the unexpected turn of events.

The ring had fallen from his grasp, rolling down the floor boards until it collided against a pile of rubble, he trotted to retrieve the item, reaching for it. Just as his hand collected the precious item, a cannon missed it by scant centimeres and crashed into the pile. The impact splintered off the remains, sending projectiles of wood straight for him. That same arm bent to cover his face, sending him flying back and skidding through another ample hole in the ship. This time, a splash of cold water encased him, streams of crimson flowed from his left forearm to blend in with the blood of his crew. Nearby, a Devil Fish stalked him as another easy meal.

His cutlass was sinking nearby, spiraling downward to reach the the ocean's bed and be forgotten forever. The Captain needed his blade to ensure his survival, his lungs could only hold whatever precious breath he stored for so long. Pain washed over him and almost hindered his struggle to swim toward the surface after reaching for his blade to snatch it. Adrenaline kicked in and the pirate suppressed the pain to swin to the surface, only for the Devil Fish to power thrust its tail and hope to snatch the Captain before he achieved it.

Amused by the futile attempt at escape of his prey, it circled him like a lioness would with its meal, allowing him to savor his last moments of life. Only until the shark lunged for the kill did it regret its choice in picking Gangplank as a potential easy meal. The seasoned pirate made short work of fish as he hacked away with his injured arm with precision. One quick stab at the cranium ended the shark's life instantaneously but the wary pirate continued to impale repeatedly until its distorted head hung limp and sunk - its brethren would make a quick meal out of it.

Gangplank managed to resurface, inhaling deeply to fill his lungs with sweet air and expel the water from his lungs. He found a piece of wood large enough to lay upon, panting laboriously as the tides swept him away from shore and deeper into the sea. A macabre spectacle of his ship sinking into water, along with his crew could be seen from the distance, the dying cries of men eaten alive or being shot at was imprinted in his memory, never forgetting how he almost became a treat to the sea he loved so much.

Pain continued to throb in his arm, the salt from the sea prevented the wounds from properly sealing, adding onto the wave of discomfiture but simply grunted that even the sea may laugh at his weakness. He continued to drift outward, consumed by the vast sea until nothing, not even the rough outline of the isles could be seen. Without anything but his cutlass, sodden pistol and clothes on his back, there were no means of steering this floating piece of wood; he'd be forced to allow the current to carry him where it pleased until it deemed him worthy of being saved. His left hand loosened to reveal the emerald ring he clutched tightly, relieving some of the pain his muscles strained. The sight and memory of it alone mollified some of the pain, distracting him as his thoughts filled with the love of his life and how he may never see her again, despite his promise of returning to her.

The sea may be cruel but he's worse. Never had he been so wrong on his life.

* * *

Editor's Note: Sorry for the lack of updates! Had a fallout with muse...but I return with the second part of Burning Tides! Hopefully my muse continues to kick in and I can wrap this up!


	28. The Test

For days, Gangplank drifted on the piece of wood which kept him aloft. With nothing but sea water to drink from, he was forced to sup on occasion from it out of sheer survival. The food was scarce and nothing truly swam by the surface too far out into the ocean and with his distorted limb, it was toilsome to even clamber back up - should he opt to dive in search of a meal. Some of the debris drifted with him but nothing of use to him. The beating sun weighed on him, nothing but the clothes on his back to protect him from the natural elements and the water wasn't hot spring, either.

With nothing but his memories to keep him alive as the sun dried him like a prune and the saltwater splashed to keep him awake and continue its tormenting act upon him.

"How did it all go so wrong".

From Bilgewater's tyrant to a future body to be lost at sea. He had the largest affluence in Bilgewater and it extended to other regions across Runeterra. Purloined from Ionia, Noxus, and grander locations; he had at least one item as proof. Even Miss Fortune couldn't touch him no matter how hard she tried. Even his 'loyal' subjects betrayed him and that spoke volumes. For seven years, Gangplank strove to conquer Bilgewater as his and succeeded without hindrance. Now, his ship rested on the bed of the sea and his crew murdered in cold blood. Captain Gangplank was most likely thought of as dead, his venture through the sea would confirm this - if he failed to return.

No one would ever search for his body. No one cared enough to do so. Except, maybe one. Shiva. How he missed her dearly. That smile which could warm up his cold body and let him forget. Her warm embrace with genuine love and affection, not even his mother could imitate. Everything was for her.

In the recent events, Gangplank found himself applying his everyday motives to pursue a normal relationship with Shiva but found it often conflicting. Keeping her safe was his priority; she was his weakness and it was evident without a single word uttered from them to confirm it. His own men would risk death to betray him and pluck the only happiness the Saltwater Scourge ever had. Graves and Twisted Fate would've served idyllic for germinating the idea that none should ever cross him but that plan was botched and turned for the worst once his galleon was directly assaulted from an unknown ship. Miss Fortune's for sure.

That sea wench always attempted to interject his goals but never truly succeeded outside of a minor inconvenience. Now, all his work had gone to waste. His stomach had been pleading for a sliver of crumbs but none could be found, they even refused to imbibe the sea water at this point. He was dying.

Motionless as the still-beating sun, even his vision was a blur once little splashes of activity rose; something stalked him from below. Ectoplasmic tendrils sprouted from the water, latching onto his board to steer it and guide him elsewhere.

By the time Gangplank regained consciousness, a familiar group huddled around him and his natural reflexes of sensing danger brought him to life. Pistol at the ready, he coddled his maimed arm and shifted between target; he knew it was useless but they still granted him space.

The Saltwater Scourge knew exactly where he was and couldn't fathom whether it was by chance he drifted here or they rescued him. Either way, all of them received equal treatment of being threatened to be shot at. If only he had ammo.

"Where's Illaoi!?" he demanded.

Illaoi the Kraken Priestess, Truth Bearer of the Nagakabouros, his former lover. As if old habits died hard, he already conjured up a brainstorm of how to convince Illaoi to help him regain his throne. She had power and with a single word, she could assemble a group to retake Bilgewater but the problem truly lay in one thing: would she help him? He had to try.

Just as he finished yelling her name, she appeared as if anticipating her summon.

"I've lost it all of Bilgewater...you have to help me reclaim it!" another demand.

"It's good to see you're truly not dead" spoke Illaoi. "Sarah Fortune already proclaims herself as the Reaver King and is currently eliminating anyone who had ties to you".

Gangplank was desperate for help. How was he supposed to keep his love safe when Miss Fortune ruled Bilgewater and everyone celebrated his death? His eyes widened to hear the apprise on his city's condition; he must return.

"You need to help my town! I worked for it, damn it!" he heard the followers gasp in disbelief.

To no surprise, he expected them to be offended; especially after insulting their tribe's origins. The Nagakabouros originated here centuries before Bilgewater was established and here he claimed it as his. With a flick of her hand, Illaoi dismissed them so she and Gangplank may have privacy.

"Why should I help you?" she inquired.

"I did what you asked of me. You owe me!" his spittle almost reached her.

"My god never asked for such petty things. Action is the only tribute required" she corrected him.

Never did he ask for favors but he demanded his debt be repaid after his continuation of sacrifices to the Nagakabouros. To hearken his former love negate all of the innocent blood he spilled for them truly ground his gears. How was he to reclaim Bilgewater without any support? No one else would help him and from the looks of it - no one would be alive to assist.

"Please...I need this" he susurrated.

The ex-Captain resorted to begging, even through gritted teeth. It was an acquired taste to express remorse once in a while - so Shiva had taught him. Yet, in the fashion, he demanded it, only contradicted his genuine statement as if it leaned to invoking guilt instead. Perhaps, the pirate's silver-tongue could only be contained in his lover's presence.

"You will be tested!" Illaoi cried out prior to knocking him on his back.

The warning didn't suffice to prepare his body for the reaping tendrils which harvested his soul from his body. A macabre sight of his lifetime's worth of memories flashing before him as those aquatic tendrils initiated a series of harrying blows to his physical and ethereal self. Adrenaline kicked in and served enough to parry a few tendrils but the endless sea of tendrils continued to assault him mercilessly. He would truly die if he was incapable of breaking free and return to his shackled soul.

Is this how The Saltwater Scourge's legacy was to end?

One of the tentacles smacked away the ring box from his pocket, sending it twirling from his reach. That's when Gangplank thought of something more valuable than his ship, crew, bounty, and city. Shiva. What did all this mean if he had no one to share it with? His crew; his city; everyone he knew would eventually betray him and leave him as the worthless piece of shit they thought him to be - outside of business and pleasure. Nobody loved him and nobody ever treated him as anything more than a powerful man with bountiful riches. The wedding ring was for her; he was to marry her and start a family together. He could imagine it as clear as daylight; he needed to get home. Home where his future wife waited for him.

Straining every possible muscle of his body out of sheer will, he rose to a stand and limped purposefully to his soul. Howling through the physical and mental pain coursing through his very existence, all the tentacles were severed along the path. Standing scant inches from Illaoi, his soul merged with him and found a renewed purpose to his life.

"Next time I ask for a favor, voice your refusal and spare me the torture of waiting" with that, he turned his back on her.

Retrieving the ring box, an almost faint smile dawned upon his features but dared not to turn around; he had somewhere to be. Judging by how one of her followers provided him with a small vessel with rations, the pirate safely assumed Illaoi would aid him in the near-future. His primary goal was to return to Shiva and carry out his dream but he had one issue to handle; his arm.

As anticipated, Gangplank was unable to set foot anywhere in Bilgewater and resorted to taking refuge in another hide-out. Able to arrange a strictly confidential meeting with a doctor concerning his arm, even he had a hint that it could never recover. The diagnosis resulted in amputating half his arm. The treatment consisted of a sterilized saw and anesthesia to numb it but, even then, he didn't shy away from witnessing his left limb being severed to leave a stump prior to being bandaged up. He'd require a prosthetic arm to replace it if he wanted to. And he did.

Nothing was safe in Bilgewater. At least, not for pirates as Miss Fortune did an excellent job in eliminating more than half his alliances within a week. There wasn't a single soul for him to trust; his crew was dead; his other sourced had also been felled, and paying mercenaries was also risky. The bounty on his head was too grand for anyone to pass up and even the doctor was kept on a tight leash - in case he grew a pair and opted to reveal him to Miss Fortune. Progress on his prosthetic arm was steady, regardless of the functions he requested aside mundane uses.

Just as he discovered a means of tactically retreating from his hide-out, an unknown source alerted Fortune of his presence and she wasted not a moment in tracking him like a hound dog. No rock was left unlifted.

Two years Gangplank spent in hiding, forced to succumb to the deepest tunnel to survive this genocide of pirates as they desperately attempted to locate his whereabouts. During that time, he could only think of his lover. Was Shiva still waiting for him? His heart ached at the thought of returning home to find an empty home covered in dust. Is any woman capable of waiting for so long? For him? Everyone loathed his return whenever he'd depart. Too many desired him dead but his ambition was too great to be quelled.

Hope arrived, disguised as an apprentice of Illaoi; his name was Econ and he was his savior. Bringing news - that an aliquot - of Bilgewater had been retaken with the assistance of Illaoi, he was free to roam the streets with nothing more than a bounty and no pursuers. Miss Fortune had to deal with avoiding Illaoi's proposal of testing her and the relentless priestess would not cease until it had been fulfilled.

Gangplank already made his way to his first and only destination; his home.

* * *

Editor's Note: Next chapter shall be the LAST of the story.


	29. Heart of the Sea

In the distance, the roof of his home came into view, encouraging him to row at a heightened pace to reach that discreet port he knew Shiva had been guided to. Every muscle tensed in a concoction of anticipation and perturb, reiterating the nightmare of finding his love gone. To find her not only gone but with another man. Could and would he blame her? He ushered her away with a vague time slot for his return and even then, it was indefinite. Would it be from one day to the next? Weeks? Months? He didn't fathom two years. Gangplank left the love of his life alone for two years and never turned to watch her departure nor personally witnessed her safety to the harbor.

For a succinct moment, his arms ceased their movement to recollect his thoughts and gear his muscles to press on. Once reaching land, a single leap planted his boots firmly on the soil, the hackles alone his body forced the rise and fall of his chest to accelerate up the unmarked path. It leads him straight to the house, dull from the front but verdant from the back. Was that a garden? No time to inspect.

Barging through the front door, his heart sunk to the pit of his belly upon the sight. Furnished living room, kitchen, and dining room. No dust.

"Shiva?" he called out weakly, surprising himself at the palpable concern of his tone.

Gangplank's sodden boots weighed heavily against the polished wood floor, the sound of his heavy breathing finally cognizant to him as he sealed his lips shut. Was Shiva home? Was she out? Where was she? His earlier call to her wouldn't alert anyone of his presence. For the first time, once again, he was afraid. Nothing.

A loud thud resonated from upstairs, followed by a low grunt. Again, his heart sunk as flashing tableaus of his love having 'company' in their home. No, it was his home; he proffered it as a source of safety for her. How could he be so selfish? Shaking his pate to shake those haunting visions of his former self, he strode up the stairs to hear another set of thuds and muffled grunts. One of the doors was left ajar, the bar of sunlight beaming through it acting as a sign of hope that what he hearkened was nothing more than his imagination. No time for dubiousness, yet...why did he traipse with trembling hands?

Just outside, the grunting was strained - irritated, even. Those images plagued his thoughts once more but he was so close; he couldn't retreat after coming so far. This was the love of his life and his thoughts got the best of him. It was then, he realized there was a singular grunt. Gangplank took the chance and flung the door open to finally quell these macabre thoughts.

His crimson eyes widened at the sight.

There she was, panting as her slender arms attempted to adjust a small dresser beside the bathroom door - presumably for easy access. The piece of furniture was obviously toilsome to move, considering its hefty weight but nonetheless, she tried.

Able to hear his footsteps into the room, Shiva surceased the decorating and froze at the sight of Gangplank matching her inane wide-eyed stare. Rogue strands of platinum tresses created a messy hairstyle, despite the ponytail securing most of her mane - these past two years allowed it to grow past her shoulders. Beads of sweat had accumulated on her face, blotches of dirt from her labor evident, leaving her victorian-esque dress equally stained.

Emotions surged through the lovers. Gangplank's heart fluttered to see Shiva furnishing the room, leading him to believe the entire house's decoration was single-handedly done by her. Most importantly, she waited for him this entire time. Now, he'd finally claim what was his.

"I'm home" he spoke.

In two promising strides, the former Captain scooped up his love in a meaningful embrace, locating the bed to carry her and set her on her back, leaning forward to feverishly kissing her. Oh, how he missed those lips, her scent, and that supple skin. Interlacing his hands with hers, she felt a cold touch from his left, curiosity forcing her to take a peak and notice the metal arm for the first time. Completely swept away - literally - into his embrace and drowning in elation for her love's return; she failed to notice the armored arm; she figured it to be armor. Except, no visible traces of flesh could be seen.

Their passionate lock ended briefly as concern filled her eyes as both hands inspected the metal arm with gentle caresses. For a moment, she thought she heard the man whimper.

"I lost it in the explosion. Miss Fortune blew up my ship during my public execution of Graves and Twisted Fate..." he elucidated to the questions surely at the tip of her tongue. "The crew is dead, my ship sunk, and most of Bilgewater in Fortune's hands...". Sorrow flickered in his sanguine hues, veering his gaze as if ashamed by the spoken events. It would've been heartless to not shed a tear at the loss of her extended family; she loved them dearly. The prosthetic limb squeezed her firmly as if imploring for support from the only person who meant anything to him. Unable to feel the returned squeeze, one of her hands cupped his cheek and stroked his untamed beard.

"You'll take back what's yours. I promise. I'll be here to support you every step of the way...". Those words alone lifted his spirit. After traveling with him and sharing the experiences of traveling with him at sea, she understood. Bilgewater was his home and rightful ruler. Gangplank had worked arduously for seven years to obtain his goal, yet...it wasn't his, to begin with. Ruling over Bilgewater was his father's desire; he adopted it as his own.

"I will take back what's mine...starting with you..." he withdrew the ring from his pocket.

Once again, he bathed her in passionate kisses, the love he held for the woman only seemed to grow by the minute. Pinning the singular wrist with his metal arm, the other placed the ring on her finger and mentally aroused himself at finally making Shiva his wife - sparing the formalities. Releasing her, that dress would be torn in half with a single, effortless pull. Bathing her in feather-like kisses along her neck, an endless journey of affectionate marks would cover the entirety of her body, leaving no area untouched until his lips salivated from the taste of her honey. He doffed his raiments to join her nudity, finding her line of sight to bear witness to her florid countenance and the heightened pace of her breathing. Not only that but the vehement love and affection she held for him, a longing stare of desire. Shiva cared not for his condition nor how he abandoned her for two years without a word in between - no, she forgave him. That twinkle in her eye intensified as his lips sealed with her own.

The crown of his mast throbbed madly against her entrance, sensing its desire to ravage her but contained itself at his owner's will.

"I love you, John..." the name almost triggered anger but he realized none had ever called his first name since his childhood.

"I love you, Shiva".

Not a moment later, a grunt and a loud moan echoed from the walls. The former Captain had to halt further motions to relish at the melancholy thought of their first time, giving her time to readjust to his size with how she writhed beneath him. This time it was different; this time their hands were intertwined and only sheer pleasure warmed her skin. Slow, passionate thrusts coaxed various arousing sounds, tempting him into accelerating his tempo to discover any new vocals from her. Her body was a canvas for his lips to mark, imprinting his dentures along her neck and shoulders as they quickly grew to be his favorite. Two years of pent up desire for her took a toll on him.

In a number of instances, Gangplank felt he'd break his wife as his powerful and quickened pace but found himself enjoying the sight of her utter helplessness. His hands planted firmly on her shoulders, refraining her from jutting upward any further than he desired, pinning her in place as he mercilessly made love to his wife.

"As my wife, you're to conceive my heir...and we won't stop until I see a bump..." he paused to pant "Even then...I'll continue to fertilize you...".

One final thrust and he buried his member to empty his virile seed into her womb, lesser thrusts to massage every drop out of him to increase his chances of impregnating her. Both were panting laboriously by the end of their session, leaving them drained of their energy until a devious smirk from her husband warned her that it was merely one of the many they'd have.

As promised, Gangplank took any opportunity to take his wife whenever and wherever they were. For the next couple of months, the newlyweds were on cloud nine. Shiva cooked, cleaned, and attended to their small garden in the back. She apprised him on her lonely life these past two years, mostly consisting of furnishing their home for his arrival, abusing the assistance of Richard - who supplied her with all necessities - for furniture, groceries, and everything in between. With no particular plans outside of waiting for his return, nothing compared to the joy of finally having John Gangplank by her side and the bud of life swelling within her.

There were moments where Gangplank left. Sometimes days and sometimes weeks but during the last trimester, both decided to leave it a surprise and the former Captain never left her side. On the day of delivery, a midwife had been present in their home for the birth, a mixture of emotions running wildly through the father-to-be's thoughts.

"What if I'm not a good father?".

"What if I can't meet her expectations?".

"Am I truly ready for this?".

Doubt overwhelmed him, wondering if their act of love was more of a lustful event and now he faced the consequences for his actions. Shiva didn't seem to think so as she held his hand while pushing. He could feel the love she bore for him. This was no mistake. He was going to have children with the woman he loved, the woman he married; his wife.

Finally, the cries of a newborn filled the home. Gangplank cut the umbilical cord just before he was cleaned up but...unexpected tides happened. Knowing nothing of a woman's pregnancy, he always imagined Shiva's large belly fell under the category of normal but the cries of another newborn told him otherwise. Twins. Equally surprised to conceive twin brunettes, the midwife relieved herself after cleansing them and promptly handing them to their rightful parents. All the doubt washed away at the sight of his son and daughter.

"What should we name them?" asked Shiva.

Both were indecisive of naming the single child they assumed they would have. Twins? Double the indecisiveness.

Gangplank surprised her.

"Vincent and Martha. The names of my parents".

Typically, he had troubles speaking of his parents but to name his children after them? Maybe an act of closure. If they were unable to gift him the love he may have sought at first, then he'll bestow it upon his children.

"I think they're lovely" she cooed at Vincent nursing from her. "Marth and Vincent it is".

Holding Martha in his arms, Gangplank couldn't help but plant a kiss on his daughter's forehead. Already he felt the unconditional love he'd hold for them; especially since their mother was his heart. Since their meeting, Shiva had been there for him...through thick and thin - mostly thick and he never valued someone so much. He couldn't help but smile warmly at her, coiling an arm around her shoulder to draw her close.

"I love you, Shiva. You mean everything to me...you're my one and only. You're me...Heart of the Sea".

* * *

Editor's Note: THANK YOU all for following me on this magnificent journey to the end! It's been an amazing adventure which I take to heart and couldn't have done it without you guys.

On a side note: I have plans to make a sequel revolving around the twins. Can't be easy being the only children of Gangplank, right? R&R please!


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